The forest floor beneath your feet is a riot of colors, the flowers glow, a gift from the gods. The gith is caught off-guard by your approach, eyes widening as she sees your hand, offering her a small flowers. She tries to compose herself, looking at you with cold expression as she places her knife aside. You start trembling, expecting mocking or even better, decapitation. You caught by suprise as she suddenly bows her head, giving you a chance to place the flowers in her hair.