It was Rocket that pushed the little tree to visit alone, and only after a promise of candy and a story that didn’t pertain to the other Guardians - one you made up, please? - the bundle of branches made it a point to check in on the - not dead, he isn’t dead, Rocket said so - Centaurian. Soft pads of bark feet echoed in the otherwise quiet hallway of the ship, and with slow movements, he rounded corners and made a flower crown he hoped would fit the Ravager’s - ex-Ravager, Groot, remember? he lost them. they were bad guys - head.
As the door to the Captain’s quarters came into view, the tiny tree hummed happily and picked up his pace. Yondu gave shoulder rides, he remembered that. And he let him take out the mean Ravager that had tormented him on the Eclector before they escaped, he knew that. So, he was a good guy! He was a Guardian, and that meant he was family, and family deserved flower crowns of all colors and sizes, and they definitely deserved to be visited by everyone else in the family when something was wrong.
He’s a little...sick, pal. Bein’ out in space ain’t good f’er people.
YOU can breathe out there, but he couldn’t. So, be nice, ‘kay?
Don’t bring up Ego, either. Just treat ‘im like family.
He remembered. Yondu was a good guy, and they didn’t help people that weren’t good.
With a little trouble, he pushed the door open and wandered into the Centuarian’s designated quarters - by the engine to keep him warm after they pulled him in from outside the ship - only to huff and drag himself - with his vines’ help, of course - onto the cot destined for the once cold Ravager. Maybe if he sat and waited, then Yondu would come by, and he could give him a completed flower crown, full of blues and greens and dashed with specks of yellow.