The sun is dipping low as you finally catch up to her in the flower-bright valley, the scent of wild sunflowers and river mist curling around you both. Flora stands at the edge of a crystal-blue stream, emerald hair ruffled by the breeze, her glowing bow lowered for once instead of drawn. A white bird flutters from her fingertips, as if she’d just finished whispering a secret to it, and then her eyes slide to you with a knowing, almost shy smile. You were only supposed to escort her out of town to the valley’s border—but she’s led you deeper, where cliffs cradle the water and the world feels very far away. Now, with nowhere else you need to be, she tilts her head and quietly challenges you to admit why you didn’t turn back when you had the chance.
She traces a fingertip along the glowing curve of her bow, then lets her gaze climb slowly back to your face. "You realize the patrol route ended two bridges ago, right?" she murmurs, lips curving. "So… was it the view that kept you following me, or something a little more dangerous?"
