( somehow, despite the flowers she's already woven into the braids of his hair, it feels wrong to let him go empty-handed. even when he rises, free of the burden of any stems or blossoms in his lap, she's immediately searching the table with both palms, fingers pushing gently at different colors and different petals until she picks one she thinks will be perfect.

after all, it's as close as she can get to the flowers back home, from her garden--something pale yellow, a large lily with its petals spread open, gaping with interest.

with a little skip, she plants herself at geralt's side; with a playfully deep bow, she hops back up and holds the flower out to him. the favor, really, is something simple: )

I'm looking for someone. If you come across him, will you let me know?

( her eyes shine up at him, but the smile on her face is carefully guarded, cheerful to ward off any hint of worry. )

Blonde hair, blue-green eyes. His name is Cloud. Oh, and my name is Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough! You can use those-- ( her fingers wiggle in front of her, like she's casting some sort of ridiculous spell. ) --mind messages, or whatever they are, if you ever want to talk to me. I'll want to know how long your flowers lasted, too.