Noctisardor Bypass life is about creating yourself.

Fig failed to notice her reaction to the term of endearment he’d given her so innocently not too long ago. He also failed to notice the scent of her season, his nose too clouded with flower petals and his mind too occupied with excitement at running into her again. And, perhaps subconsciously as of yet, excited about some other things.

”Sure,” he agreed easily, stepping into place beside her. She seemed to be in a very cheerful mood, which Fig found to be both charming and infectious. ”I was actually out here searching for new friends,” he commented lightly, ”All I seemed to be able to find were minnows. Fun to wade around in the water with, but no skills whatsoever when it comes to holding a conversation.”

”What brings you to the bypass?” Fig asked, turning to look at her only to realize he had never really looked away, ”I didn’t expect to run into you again, though I’m certainly not complaining.”