Grace's cheeks burned at the laughter. She wanted to cry as the girl's words came at her in a torent. Only her brother got to tease her. Grace pushed herself off the ground ignoring the proffered hand and resisted wiping at her cheeks and giving away how much she wanted to cry. "I'm not delicate." Well she was, but it didn't seem a compliment from this ruffian and so she automatically contested it.

She tugged at her skirt to straighten it leaving streaks of blue along with the multitude of other colors. And then the girls were surrounded in more puffs of colored pollen as the plants renewed their attack.