“I don’t think she questioned it,” Sabran reassures her, and Arkana feels all the tension melt from her bones. Dropping her chin to her chest, she lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank goodness,” she says. “You’re the best, Sab.” As her mismatched eyes find her sister again, Arkana offers her a wide, grateful smile, and feels a bubble of pride bloom in her chest as Sabran peppers her with questions.

“Gosh, it was such a blur, I can barely even remember,” she responds, tilting her head as she casts her mind back to that evening. The most prominent memory she retains is of the way the warm light of the sunset had hit his face, and the way his golden eyes had blazed like tiny suns in the star-studded darkness of his coat. She remembers vividly, too, how she had gently laid a flower at his feet early the next morning while he was still asleep: a token to remember her by. All she can recall from their conversations are mere fragments.

“Um, he asked where I was from, and he told me a little about his life. He said he’s a traveller. And he promised he would come visit so we could take walks together and run across the Prairie.” In truth, she cannot remember if he had actually promised, but to Arkana, he may as well have. Every day from now on, she is determined to wake up and brave the chilly sea air to wait for him at the beach. He will come for her. She can feel it in her bones.

Arkana’s lips twist into a teasing smile. “So now that I’ve got a sort-of-boyfriend, when are we going to find one for you, hm?”