And all red, too. It's almost as if they're stinging creatures, presenting us with their alluring but threatening colors. They do have their thorns, at any rate.

[The unfurling petals of the roses on the rose garden platform remind her of the stretching tendrils of a juvenile jellyrose, so named because it blends the pitch danger of the deep with the beauty of a terrestrial rose.

A plain rose is much less dangerous, but a bed of them is still sharp and unforgiving.]

You certainly scampered off quickly the other evening. [Her chuckle and her gaze are low.] Are you shy?