Alistair sat alone on the docks, lost in thought. He twirled a rose, its color reminiscent of the blush on his cheeks. He picked it in Lothering, before its destruction. He felt a flutter in his stomach and sweaty palms whenever he’s around Anon, feelings he finds confusing. Hearing Anon approach, he hides the rose and asks, “O-Oh hey there, Anon. What brings you so far from the camp?”