Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to us. Except for the name of the flowers, and the idea of the story, but none of the characters belong to us. Not even the donkey, or the flowers, but flowers aren't really characters, they're just flowers, but you get the idea…

It was early morning. The sun's first rays were just starting to peek over the red horizon, hinting that the day would be a hot one.

Rosethorn was fast asleep in her bed, when Crane burst in and yanked her out of bed.

"Up! I've found a large patch of these flowers growing in the forest. I believe if we observe them for a long enough time we will see what is pollinating them," he briskly left the room closing the door behind him.

Rosethorn sleepily dressed in casual clothes, which would be easy to move around in, breeches and a tunic.

She opened the door to her room and sleepily blinked. Briar was standing there, looking wide-awake and dressed.

"May I come?" he asked.

"No," she said firmly.

"I gotta come, please!" he begged.

"No, You have to come," she corrected him.

"So I can?" He asked looked happy.

"No!" she started to leave.

"Please…" he said following her.

She walked outside where Crane was waiting. He saw Rosethorn and looked away, then noticed Briar.

He took one look at the boy and said, "We don't need a him tagging along."

"He's coming," she told Crane, and then to Briar, "You can come, but be good."

"Aren't I always?" he asked putting an innocent face on.

Rosethorn chose to ignore this comment and followed Crane into the forest. He apparently knew where he was going and walked quickly with out hesitation.

After walking for several minutes the wood thinned out and the blue flowers with red thorns were everywhere.

Crane sat down and took off the bag he had been carrying. In it he had breakfast, lunch, and dinner as well as a few notebooks and pencils. There was also a book on flower pollinators.

Rosethorn sat down as well and motioned for Briar to do the same. Rosethorn looked at the food, "So I take it you're planning on being here all day?"

He gave a small nod, not looking at her, but instead flipping open a notebook, he began to sketch one of the flowers.

"Well, now that we are mostly sure it's a new flower, then who gets name it?" Briar said looking at them both.

Rosethorn glanced at Crane, who glanced back.

"I do," Rosethorn said turning away.

Crane narrowed his eyes, "Since when?"

"Since, well, we both discovered it, so I guess we both do…" she started flipping through the bird pollinator's book.

Briar dropped the subject; apparently neither of them were in the mood for discussion. The sun peeked above the horizon and the forest was bathed in light. Briar rolled over onto his stomach and prepared himself for a long day.

Rosethorn mumbled something about her garden needing weeding that day.

After sitting and staring for a few hours Briar stood up and announced, "I'm gonna go for a little walk."

"All right, don't go to far, and don't disturb the flowers," Rosethorn told him.

Crane said nothing and continued watching the flowers.

Briar walked back into the denser forest and looked around. He lifted his head and smelled the fresh scents of the forest. There were a few pines, the kind that had tall trunks before the pine started. Noting the sycamores he started looking for a stream. He began walking in the direction where it looked like there were more sycamores. He nearly fell into the stream, it was low down so he hadn't seen it. The bank was steep and he slipped down it dirtying his pants. He didn't really care, but Rosethorn would. He jumped onto a rock and made his way across the little creek, getting his pants wet as well.

The other side was very thickly wooded and he decided he would stay on the other side of the creek. As he was standing on a rock in the middle of the river he noticed a bridge crossing the creek a little ways up the river. He hurried back to the side he was originally on, and followed the creek upstream to the bridge.

It was a nicely made stone bridge. The road crossing it was dirt. He didn't recall there ever being a road going through this forest. He began walking along the road, when he saw three characters walking along the road. One was a rather large chubby man. The second was a small, pretty woman. The third appeared to be, a small dog or pony. He hurried back into the forest not wanting to be seen.

He retraced his steps back to Rosethorn and Crane. They were both sitting there, quietly watching the flowers. Something seemed wrong. He sat down next to Rosethorn. He took a roll from the pile of food and began eating it.

He then realized, Crane and Rosethorn weren't arguing, let alone talking. That was strange, the last time he'd been working with them both, they'd been at each other's necks the whole time.

Suddenly Rosethorn glanced up, "You hear that?"

Crane looked up as well, "I hear nothing," he said quietly.

Briar strained his ears; he could faintly pick out the sound of hoof beats. The were short beats, as if the horse was very small.

Just then, a donkey burst into the clearing. He looked quite terrified. He looked around at the flowers, muttering words. Briar crawled closer to make out the words. The donkey was saying, "Blue flowers, red thorns. Blue flowers, red thorns. This would be so much easier if I wasn't color blind!"

The donkey grabbed on of the flowers and ran off. Briar turned around to look at Crane and Rosethorn. They were both looking at the spot where the donkey had been in amazement.

"Well," Rosethorn said.

"Now we know what animal is pollinating the flowers," Crane stated simply.

"Donkeys don't pollinate flowers!" Rosethorn snorted. Briar said nothing and just watched.

"I was attempting to make a," he paused, "joke."

"This is too good!" Briar said happily.

Crane and Rosethorn glared at him.

"What?" he said. Rosethorn was really acting differently this morning. He looked away and paid attention to eating his roll.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Crane took out a sandwich and began eating it.

Rosethorn also took a sandwich to eat. For a few minutes the only sound was of chewing. Briar figured neither Crane nor Rosethorn wanted him to go telling people that Crane had attempted a joke.

Crane suddenly dropped his sandwich, "A butterfly!"

He quickly crawled closer, "You see, the pollinator is not a bird!"

"Just you wait, it hasn't landed on the flowers yet!" Rosethorn said watching the butterfly closely.

Briar relaxed. Now they were starting to act like they were supposed.

"It will! It will! Look it's landing!" Crane said with anticipation. Then suddenly a cat leaped up and grabbed the butterfly in its mouth and trotted off.

"There, you see, it didn't land!" Rosethorn said with triumph.

"It would have, if it weren't for that stupid cat!" Crane said angrily.

"I still think it's a bird, after all the scent is small, the butterfly wouldn't have landed it, the butterfly couldn't even smell it! Plus Butterflies go for red flowers not blue flowers!" Rosethorn told him.

"Yes, but neither do birds, and the flowers aren't even strong enough for a bird to land on!" He took one of the flowers close to them and pushed on the petals to show what he meant.

"But if it was a hummingbird! Hummingbirds don't need to land!" Rosethorn argued.

Crane didn't say anything, instead just watched the flowers and found himself looking at a herd of deer, munching away at the flowers to their hearts content.

"They'll eat all the flowers," Crane said faintly.

Rosethorn started in horror. Crane stood up and waved him arms at the door. White tails went up and ran away in a flash. Briar scowled. They all sat back down and stared at the now smaller patch of flowers.

There was a buzzing sound in Crane's ear. He swatted it away, but the buzzing sound kept coming back. He looked up and realized that bees surrounded them and the flowers. He looked triumphantly at Rosethorn.

"None of them have landed yet," she told him smugly.

"Ouch!" Briar yelped as a bee stung him.

"Run," Crane said and they stood up and followed Briar to the creek as fast as they could.

They splashed into the water and lay down, attempting to completely submerge themselves in one foot of water. Briar splashed at the bees, hoping to make them go away. It didn't work and by the time the bees were gone they were all covered in red bumps.

"Mud," Rosethorn said as they climbed onto the muddy shore.

Crane looked horrified, "I am NOT covering myself in mud!"

Briar, who had already covered himself in mud, looked at Crane, "it takes the sting away."

Crane sighed and decided that since he was already wet and slightly muddy, more mud couldn't hurt. They sat there slopping mud up and down their arms and legs, and wherever else the bees had stung.

They trudged back to the spot where they had been recently watching the flowers. The bees were gone and there was no trace they had ever been there. Rosethorn looked at Crane. The expression on her face might have been smugness, but Crane wasn't sure since she had her face covered in mud as well. He snorted; she looked ridiculous. Rosethorn shook her head, a smile on her face, splattering mud everywhere, "For your information, you look as stupid as I."

Briar looked at Rosethorn, then at Crane. They were staring at each other with the oddest expressions, at least, it wasn't the usual expressions of dislike they had on, in fact, it might've even been the opposite.

"I don't believe bees pollinate the flowers," Rosethorn said softly, breaking the silence.

"No, they don't," Crane agreed. Briar raised his eyebrows, they were actually agreeing with each other.

"But, it can't possibly be a bird!" he said.

Rosethorn said frustrated, "Please, lets not get into this argument again."

Crane sighed and looked at the flowers, which were swaying gently in the breeze coming in from the south. The seemed to be getting colder as the wind picked up and clouds started to cover the sky.

Rosethorn shivered in her wet, muddy clothing. Crane picked up his dry cloak that had previously been in the pack and wrapped it around Rosethorn. She smiled gratefully. Briar, looking at the sky, mumbled something about the weather.

"What was that?" Rosethorn asked.

"I said; it might rain!" Briar said loudly.

Rosethorn looked up at the dark clouds, whipping about the sky. She shook her head, "I think its just passing over us!"

Briar looked unconvinced, as a piece of grass twisted itself around his finger. There was a loud boom and lightening struck down in the distance. Crane sighed and scooted under a tree. The branches lowered down and twisted among them selves, creating a canopy. Rosethorn and Briar scooted under after him. It started to rain. They could hear the pitter-patter or raindrops hitting the leaves and branches. Suddenly it became very, very, dark, and you couldn't see far. The rain came down harder and managed to find ways between the leaves and splattered triumphantly on their faces. Lightening struck again, and the whole world was lit up for a split second, showing the flowers whipping violently around.

"I hope this isn't because Tris is angry!" Briar yelled over the wind. Neither Crane nor Rosethorn replied, they were feeling to wet and cold to. 

Just as abruptly as the storm had started, it stopped, the clouds disappeared, and the sun came out, and warmed up the world, except now it was warm and moist. They came out from underneath the tree and the branches returned to their original state.

A small bird flew out from the trees and flicked around the flowers, its wings moving so fast you could only see a blur. Briar peered closely at the flowers, the birds were all over the place! He poked Rosethorn and pointed at the flowers.

"Ah hah!" she cried, as a bird dipped its beak into a flower without landing, "Hummingbirds!"

Crane decided not to say anything as he watched the small beautiful birds go about their work. Instead, he began taking notes, in his notebook, which was somehow, not wet. Briar figured it was another spell like all the others on everything in Winding Circle. Rosethorn watched the birds, enchanted with them. This was the little bird who had caused all the commotion today. She was so busy watching the birds she didn't realize that when the mud had come off, so had the stings and swelling.

"Well, now that we know its pollinator, we can get down to researching it more thoroughly," Crane said, packing up his things and getting ready to leave.

"Absolutely," Rosethorn said, standing up and brushing her hair from her eyes.    

A/N: We're not putting up the third chapter until there are ten reviews. So tell other people on ff.net to read this and review it, but don't review it twice under different names. Hope ya'll like it! Oh and I wrote this story with my sister Snowbear. That is her name on ff.net so go read some of her stories too.