Now the many flowers across all regions surely spread joy to all that bear witness to them, not all have had the grand opportunity to feast their eyes on one that was forged from the molten lava of their home region. It is said that in a single month of the entire year, at which these flowers bloomed at their peak season, is the only time to catch sight of this rare occurence. Fuu had been fortunate that while on their travels, her group had elected to take a rest at Zevija's borders for a well-deserved break. That lengthy time in Strynhalde, plus the flight through Il'durahn's esteemed airships had the teenager nearly chilled for her underprepared journey through the winter-wonderland that just hanging near the streaming lava was a blessing in disguise. Lined up in a stall with gathering folks of all shapes and sizes were these spheres of hardened magma that rivaled the dusk of the night sky up ahead. Once split open, the dark purples, reds, oranges, and yellows formed the very culimation of a naturally-crafted glass flower no matter how janky or disporportionate the flower was. No two flowers looked the same, and the thrill of the split was satiating curiosity on what it would look like to all that huddled nearby. Fuu found herself naturally gravitating to the flora encased in the hardened molten, bright eyes shone with interest on the stained coloration that made the glass flower similar to the sky of a setting sun. Just gazing at the flower did she feel as if her worries were also melting away, half-lidded pink irises too calm to even widen for a fraction. When its held in her paws, the feel is lukewarm but the radiance is unmatched like no other flower she's spotted in Zevija.
