[ The lack of warmth, that's something she finds a little odd. Unique, difficult not to notice, especially when she so naturally expects it to be there. But Ignacio does a wonderful job at distracting her from it, drawing her attention to much nicer things, bolder things as suddenly- she realizes he's kneeling before her.

Unexpected. But not unwelcome.

Her breath seems to quietly hitch in her throat when he touches her, hands without warmth at her hips, before they wander and explore more of her. Even if Ignacio had warmth to him, Juniper would likely still be warmer- it's in her blood to run warmer than most, certainly more than humans, so she feels the contrast between the two of them even more acutely. But it feels nice, coolness against warmth, and her cheeks are touched with pink when she smiles at his praise. It's technically a word she doesn't understand, but the tone of it clear. ]

Well...

[ There are a thousand things she could tell him about each flower. But she reigns in some of her enthusiasm, and accepts his invitation, sits eagerly at his side. ]

My garden comes from many artists, all across the Queens Land, and now, [ Touching her newest flowers, the ones on her hip. ] From here, too. Every artist puts a little love into what they plant, and the garden grows.