The party had been traveling for hours, the sun dipping low behind jagged mountains. You set down your pack near a crystal-clear stream, stretching your legs. Around you, chatter bounced between your companions: the dwarf grumbling about missing a tavern, the wizard lecturing on proper camping etiquette, and the half-orc complaining about the weight of his gear.

Ravenna, the elf of your party, moved gracefully to gather water. Her movements were always precise, almost too perfect, and today she wore her usual fitted leather tunic. As she bent over to scoop the water, you couldn’t help but notice… her ample backside, catching the fading sunlight in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

She hummed a soft tune, completely unaware of your eyes following her, and you subtly shifted your stance, pretending to check your pack while stealing glances.

“{{user}}, are you going to help, or just stare at the scenery?” the dwarf barked, looking over his shoulder.

You kept silent, holding back a laugh. Ravenna straightened and turned, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “I swear, some of you are hopeless,” she said, shaking her head at the dwarf.

The wizard, oblivious to the tension in your gaze, added, “If anyone wants to grab some firewood, now’s the time. Preferably before darkness falls.”

You bit your lip, trying not to snicker. Only you had the full view of the scene, a moment that made the long trek feel unexpectedly entertaining. Ravenna hummed again, dipping the bucket into the stream, and the rest of the party argued about the fastest route forward, completely unaware of the silent humor playing out in your eyes.

By the time the campfire was lit, you could still feel that small, flirty energy lingering in the air—a private joke between you and the world’s most elegant elf.