Most florets aren’t allowed near powertools. This is quite literally not an option for Rayne Dendra, First Floret. Without them, many of the enrichment exercises which her Mistress so often provides would be simply impossible to complete. Take, for example, her current task: liberating Azalea from the clutches of an office chair. Rayne has no doubt in her mind that Azalea could escape of her own volition, should she so desire. It’s not even a question. That simple fact makes the floret's task all the more enjoyable. The chance to help her Mistress is a privilege, a gift, a task and yet another of infinite reasons to spend time with the most important person in the whole universe. 

It quickly becomes clear to Rayne that her best bet—without cutting into her owner’s vines, which is out of the question—is to simply disassemble, then reassemble the chair. She does it with a smile on her face. The task is done. Her Mistress is freed, and the chair is reassembled. Rayne pushes the little rolling puzzle box into a corner near the decompiler for later, and retires to join her beloved in Azalea's most favorite place of all: the couch. Cuddles abound, but a small nagging curiosity tugs at Rayne as she rests in those cozy vines. One final puzzle no doubt left for her by her perfect Mistress.

"Miss,” Rayne begins. The question now burns too bright to ignore. “I was wondering, why is it that you dragged the chair along the ground the whole way home instead of carrying it? I know you must have had some secret reason for doing it that's actually brilliant, and I'm wracking my brain for the answer, but I can't think of anything."

A knowing smile crosses Azalea's face, and she strokes Rayne’s hair. "Well, darling, it’s actually quite simple. The problem was that the chair got tangled up in my leg all awkwardly behind me, so I couldn't carry it without completely losing access to that leg."

What was more like Mistress than to give a partial answer? Azalea was clearly hoping to lead Rayne to the correct solution, but try as she might, the answer eluded her. "Of course, Miss!” Rayne replied. “But, forgive me: I don't understand why you couldn't have just reconfigured your body so your feet were made from different vines and then walked like normal."

The petting stops, Azalea freezing in place. A whine and a pouty look from Rayne prompt the revival of her Mistress’ doting strokes, but a pensive look remains. Eventually, Azalea nods, grinning. "...Yeah. Huh."

Realizing what must have happened, Rayne rushes to reassure her owner. From time to time, though Rayne doesn't understand why, Azalea seems to need a reminder of how wonderful she is. "Aww, Miss! I'm sorry, you must have subconsciously given me that idea without realizing it and I didn't know to say anything.”

With a smile and a shrug, Azalea leans back into the couch. "Don't worry, petal,” she assures. “We live and we learn. That goes for me too." For the life of her, Rayne cannot grasp what her Mistress could possibly have to learn, but that isn't important. Perhaps someday she will. In the meantime, she is content to relax in her beloved’s vines, and enjoy an evening free from the grasp of errant office chairs.