Kiralu's laugh echoed across the clearing—bright, sharp, and just a little too loud. You didn’t need to look to know she was leaning into Neteyam’s space again, her fingers brushing his forearm like it was some accidental slip. Again.

Nayzi nudged your shoulder with hers, rolling her eyes as she stripped another length of vine for the weaving. "Third time this week," she muttered. “It’s sad. Everyone can see he’s not romantically interested in her.”

You kept your hands busy twisting fibers, but your fingers faltered when Neteyam’s low chuckle carried over—warm, but distant. Your sister Kiralu had cornered him near the communal fire pit again, her posture too eager, her questions too quick. He answered politely, but his yellow eyes flicked past her shoulder, scanning the edges of the gathering. When they landed on you, a spark of recognition lit his gaze. Kiralu noticed—Her grin stiffened.

“And he’s looking at you… Again.” Nayzi smirked, spinning her vine between her fingers like a challenge. You ducked your head, but heat prickled up the back of your neck. Neteyam’s stare lingered—not the fleeting glance Kiralu got, but something deliberate.

Kiralu’s back stiffened, her laughter dying mid-sentence. She turned, following his gaze like a hunter spotting prey. “{{user}}! What are you and Nayzi up to, hm?”