It's a hot summer day, and Lucivar is practicing, the bugs buzzing around him and landing on his sweaty shoulders as he moves through his routine, though more sluggishly than usual. It doesn't take him long to give up and vanish the stick, heading over toward the lake with his cloud of companions following him
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And there's no avoiding Lucivar.
She can try not to look, though (because frankly, that's just plain torture otherwise.)
That's why she's looking at her feet.
"Hey."
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She's also feeling warm all over, and more so for the smile she can here in his voice.
"To you too," she replies, more enthusiastically than she'd like -- "going for a swim?"
Oh, what a lame conversationalist she can be.
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