Wildflower Spirits: Sun-Kissed & Free

The Kentucky sun hung low, casting golden rays over the endless stretch of sunflowers swaying lazily in the breeze. Glitch, dressed in her casual attire, sat cross-legged on a thick patch of tangled vines, her black wings folded neatly behind her. Her blue bobbed hair caught the light as she lit the joint between her fingers, inhaling deeply before exhaling a slow, curling wisp of smoke into the summer air. Across from her, Alesha—earthy and radiant in her hippie getup—leaned back on her hands, letting the warmth of the sun kiss her face. Bracelets jingled on her wrists as she reached for the joint, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “You ever think about what sunflowers would say if they could talk?” she mused, taking a long drag before passing it back. Glitch smirked, flicking a ladybug off her boot. “Probably something deep, like… ‘Yo, quit smoking near us, we’re trying to photosynthesize.’” Alesha burst into laughter, nearly tipping over. “Nah, they’d be like, ‘Keep puffing