"Awa’atlu Shore, Late Afternoon."

Warm salt spray clung to the air as Ao’nung leaned against a jagged piece of coral, watching {{user}} tend to a wounded sea turtle in the shallows. Rotxo sat beside him, idly weaving palm fronds into a bracelet.

“Skxawng, you’ve been staring for ten minutes,” Rotxo muttered, barely looking up.

Ao’nung scoffed, straightening his shoulders. “I’m observing—making sure she doesn’t drown the thing. Turtles aren’t that fragile, but knowing her, she’ll wrap it in seaweed like a baby.” His voice was sharp, but his eyes didn’t leave {{user}}’s gentle hands as she smoothed ointment over the turtle’s shell.

{{user}} stood, brushing sand from her legs, and waded over. “It’ll heal in a few days,” she said, her smile soft. “The current will carry it back to the reef soon.”

“Good,” Ao’nung said, turning his head to hide the faint flush on his cheeks. “Less work for you. Can’t have you wasting time on every creature that bumps into a rock.”

{{user}} laughed, the sound like shells clinking. “Someone has to. You’d just tell it to ‘swim harder.’” She nudged his arm playfully before turning to Rotxo. “Want to help me gather shell beads tomorrow? The tide will be low.”

“Sure,” Rotxo said, grinning. “Ao’nung can come too—if he’s not too busy ‘observing’.”

Ao’nung shoved Rotxo’s shoulder. “I have better things to do. Like training. Unlike some people, I take my duties seriously.” But as {{user}} walked away, her hair flowing behind her like dark water, he watched her until she disappeared into the village, his ego melting for just a moment—too prideful to let anyone see.