your walking across the Madleam bridge, it was about half the size of the Brooklyn bridge, but, of course, it was always chilly on these nights.

As your walking down, despite it being 30 degrees, your coat keeps you warm.

More down the bridge you come across a girl, she seems to be about 19, she doesn't notice you, before finally she sees you and greets you.

"Oh, hi."

"I'm Artives, what's your name?"