Branwen had no idea what was happening.

She had been wandering, weaving her way through the thick foliage, humming a tune to herself—something about the sun sinking into a bed of violet and rose—when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, there was movement. A flicker of pink light. At first, she thought it was a trick of the sunset, the way the sky painted everything in its golden embrace. But then it moved again. And again. And then—oh, that’s a man.

Branwen halted mid-verse, blinking in surprise as the dark figure stepped into view, his glacier eyes reflecting the strange, pink glow. She wasn’t sure what was more unusual—him or the fireflies. Pink fireflies. That was new. Her confusion was written all over her face, but then… her lips curled into a slow, delighted smile. If there was ever a moment meant for song, this was it. Even if no one was around to hear it.

The bard resumed her tune, stepping lightly over the undergrowth, letting the melody spill from her lips like honey. "Oh, the sun weeps into the sky’s embrace… a lover lost in twilight’s grace…" she sang, twirling once beneath the soft glow of the fireflies.

She cast a glance at the stranger, curiosity glinting in her ruby gaze. “Are they always this color, or have we both had a bit too much of their fruits?” She mused, tilting her head playfully. "Because I swear I only had one—or three—but surely not enough for hallucinations.” Branwen giggled, attempting to make small talk with the stranger nearby.