Gale was quietly sitting on a rock near the edge of the river, holding a small piece of paper in his hands. The wizard looked completely focused on the love poem he was reading — looking at it like it was the most beautiful thing on earth.

He could recognize your heavenly and delicate handwritting among thousands. His mind started to wander, his thoughts full of you. He had found the love poem abandoned on your desk — snooping is wrong, but he was too curious to resist the temptation. Who did you write this poem for? It was simply beautiful, but Gale was too dense to understand you had written it for him.

When he saw you approaching the riverside, clearly searching for your lost poem, he stood up while smiling gently. "Forgive my curiosity, I'm the one who took your poem. Your writing is quite exquisite, dear," the wizard praised you in his deep yet soothing voice. "The person you wrote it for is really lucky."