It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for; he remembered the smell, sort of sweet like a rose, but a bit more musky, making him think of a dark lavender color, the color of its petals in the dim forest light.

He found a clump of the plants nestled between the roots of a tree, on the lee side, lavender buds half open and releasing their soft fragrance. It was the same plant that had nearly killed him, and it was exactly what he needed to help Guiana.

He could see the imposing thorns peeking through the blue-green leaves, and wondered how he was going to pick some of it without making himself sick. Although he figured that his immune system was now immune, something in the back of his mind told him that just picking the flowers would not be right.

"Ask it," he muttered. "What, am I s'posed ta talk to a plant?" (yeah, bub that is exactly what you are s'posed ta do, so get to it, Guiana's hurting)

Feeling completely self-conscious, Logan crouched and studied the flower's velvet petals. "Uh ... hi." Nothing happened, but then again, what had he been expecting? It would have been funny if Guiana's life wasn't on the line.

"You remember me right? I'm the fellah that thought you were pretty a while back, even if you gave me a serious case of the crud," Logan cleared his throat, and was glad that no-one could see what he was doing right now. The leaves of the plant rustled once, but that could just have been because he was breathing on it. He breathed in of its scent, and allowed himself a bit of a smile. "Ya still smell good."

(Oh great not only are you talkin' to a plant, but now you're flatterin' it?)

"Look, I'll get right to it. Guiana's hurt bad. You know who Guiana is, right? 'Course ya do, but I'm sure you call her something different. She needs your help, and she told me to talk to ya first, but I have to be honest, if this don't work, I'm taking you to her anyway. I don't have time to argue with wildlife. 'Cause I care about her, and I don't want her dying on me, okay? I promise, if she makes it - even if she don't, I will try to save some of this forest for her, or her memory, either way. You got my word on it. I think I even know a way. Just help her, all right? I need her around. I - I just need her, all right? I ain't very good with words, but you know what I'm talkin' about."

It gushed out of him so fast that he didn't even have time to think about what he was saying, and maybe that was the point. Not the words, but the feeling behind it, was what made it important. It was what mattered, that he cared, and he loved. Even if he didn't come right out and say it; maybe it was in his voice, in the desperation that he could hear in his own ears - which surprised him - and in the anxiety in his trembling limbs.

Whatever it was, he watched in wonder as the huge thorny spikes on the plant's stem slowly retracted into the stem with a rustling noise, until it was smooth and unprotected from his touch. He could pick it with ease now, and he figured that this was his answer.

"Nice trick," he said quietly, and sighed in relief. "Man, I am NEVER lookin' at plants the same way again." He began gathering up the blossoms and leaves, like Guiana had told him to do. "And I am true to my word, too, I got an idea about how to save some of this forest. Since we are now on speakin' terms, lemme tell ya about it."