White carnations, red chrysanthemums, and red roses were the only flowers you could identify in the bulging bouquet Lenny had presented you with a nervous grin.

He was fidgeting a little as you took it, clearing his throat before thumbing the small satchel at his side. “I hope you like it,” he said, sending another half-smile before reaching into his bag and pulling out a small handheld book.

“Here,” he said quickly, placing it into your free hand before quickly walking away to elsewhere in camp.

Flowers and Their Meanings, read the title. Suppose you would have some reading to do in order to make sense of this strange scenario.