Yuffie leans over and plucks a green, soft, fuzzy frond. "What exactly are these things?" I lean over and inspect it briefly.
"A fiddlehead," I reply.
"This is some sort of fern, Vinny."
"And I am a botanist, no?" I chuckle. She sticks out her tongue, flicking the frond at my face.
I hasten to explain: "Young fern fronds are called fiddleheads due to the fact that they curl up until they are ready to leaf out."
She looks at me and giggles.
"You're a fiddlehead, Vinny."
I blink, perplexed. As she dances off to snatch a wild sunflower from the meadow's edge, I comprehend her reference. A sheepish grin covers my face, hidden by my cloak. I love you too, Yuffie.
