Fanfare: Transform each Fairy in your hand into a Thorn Burst.
See the roses blooming? The deep red petals beckon to you. Such an intoxicating color. Can the pulsing crimson within you resist? Even knowing the thorns will wound you, you still come. How sad you are.
See us grow so beautifully, proud, and unhindered? We only want to be beautiful—and if you would mar us, expect no mercy. I'll teach you that you have no right to pluck a flower that grows only to be beautiful.
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