It was Uta and Stella's fourth day in Fishburg, with just three days left until the festival. As Uta prepared to venture out, he noticed Stella buried in her ancient manuscripts once again.
"Huh? Staying in again today?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Yes, I'm at a crucial point in decoding these texts," Stella replied without looking up.
"Fair enough, but staying cooped up all day isn't healthy, you know."
Stella glanced at him, her expression mildly incredulous. "Hearing that from you, Uta, feels… off. I can't explain it, but it just does."
"Hey, that's rude," Uta pouted, his lips forming a mock frown before heading out the door.
"The festival vibe is really picking up," Uta mused as he wandered through the bustling streets. Crowds of tourists filled the town, the majority being human, followed by elves and dwarves.
"This feels like a summer festival back home. I used to go every year with my friends…"
