There's a sense of tension in the air, in the red thorny vine curling around the crown of her head, tangling with her hair. Then, it snuffs out, her shoulders sink. The vines seem to slide from view.

"...The people who are important know me." And if there are some parts of herself that she cannot share with them, perhaps she will find the courage to do that some day.

"Sometimes I want to be important. I don't want people to see me as a child or naive or just a flower goddess, hardly more important than the nymphs along side me. Is that what you wanted to hear? That--yes, I want more out of life? Sure--but I'm going to get there my way."