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.