Noctisardor Bypass Sitting here underneath the bridge

Light refracted off of the water, casting its glow to the trees above. Anselm studied their glinting bark, unwinding his tight grip around his reluctance to be perceived as kind: It’s pretty. 

Another figure moved by the bank, but Anselm did not yet see Amadeo. He was focused on the way the tree split halfway up its trunk - for the first time, Anselm noticed a pattern — the trunks combined bore the same width as the base of the tree. 

This was the second time in memory that Heda had mentioned Bartholomew; that Answlm could remember, anyway. He couldn’t help the prickle he felt, but he stowed it away. For Heda to talk about him all these years later… he must have meant a great deal to her.  Vhat happened to Bartholomew?

Now, he drew his gaze from the bough of the tree and saw Amadeo. An overall unpleasant sensation lingered in his gut to see the man, and the embarrassed countenance he wore. Anselm’s brief exposure of his tender side snapped hastily shut.