Dahlia keeps herself well-hidden, having the home court advantage despite her size. She knows these towering pines, knows the right angles to crouch behind their boughs, to wait and to watch. She can smell Daisy's sharpness through her cavernous nostrils. But she waits. It's no fun to chase right away. Better to wait, and let her opponent settle in.

Night creeps in slowly. Blue pinpricks glow in the dark. It's been long enough. Where are you, little flower?