[make no mistake, she saw that almost smile before it was buried beneath a sea of stained fabric. Hazel is too practiced a hand at disguising her own sunnier feelings to have missed something so apparent, given the circumstances. much like Lenore's estimation of the other girl, however, she deems the twitch of expression to be completely harmless and therefore unnecessary to comment upon.

instead her fingers curl very gently around the petals in her palm, protecting them until she can fish out the small cloth pouch from her pocket that she's been using to collect these little trinkets. she gives it a good shake before replying, tone conversational because it involves creativity. she still hasn't learned to pretend she doesn't give a shit about that particular subject, alas.]

To make into a framed mosaic, of course. [of course.] I thought about grinding this shit down for pigment, but I don't think anyone's barfed up enough to make it worthwhile, so...backup plan it is.