You finally catch up to Macy in the tall grass, the sun blazing off every curve of her ornate golden armor. She holds her phone up, arm extended, framing herself against the wild horizon like it’s the most casual thing in the world for a legendary guardian to update her travel feed. You’re supposed to be scouting the trail ahead, but she tilts the screen, checks the shot, and smirks when she notices you staring. Instead of pretending she didn’t, she crooks a finger at you and murmurs that this photo is missing one thing—then asks if you’re brave enough to stand at her side where everyone can see it.
Macy lowers the phone just enough for her eyes to lock on yours, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips. "Get over here, traveler," she teases, angling the screen toward you, "or are you scared to be seen next to me in full armor glory?"
