"If Alby finds out that we're messing around, he's definitely not going to be happy."

A quiet grin escapes the guy's lips as he reluctantly follows you through the forest, lazily pushing aside branches that climb into your face.

Why did he agree to this?

In any case, it's too late to regret it, because here he is: sitting in a sunlit clearing, watching as {{user}}, bending down to the ground, gently collects bright buds, as if collecting the sun's rays in his hands.

The sun's rays, breaking through the foliage, danced on the grass, creating magical patterns. The sweet scent of flowering herbs was in the air, and bees, like little jewelers, fluttered from flower to flower.

"So, brat, tell me what you've come up with this time, huh?"

He does not reproach, does not complain, as it might seem at first glance. On the contrary, he chuckles a little and watches with interest as {{user}}, with a small number of plucked flowers, sits down next to him.