Fenrir and Serra have been watching Rock for several minutes now. After noticing it gently shaking inside of his hand, he set it down on the ground for the two of them to observe. Now, five minutes later, the rock is still shaking periodically but nothing else is happening.

Serra raises her hands but lowers them immediately after. “Why do you… think it’s moving?” she asks.

“No idea. I thought maybe it’s like a secret egg or something, but,” Fenrir pauses to tap on the rock, “it just feels like a rock. I was excited for a moment thinking I found some super secret dragon egg or something like that, but I guess this isn’t one of those kinds of stories.”

Serra pokes it herself. Yep, definitely a rock. “What now?” she asks.

“Now? Well, now I pick up Rock and we figure out something to do,” Fenrir replies, picking up Rock just as he said so that he can tuck it into his new pocket. He can only fit it roughly halfway into his pants pocket. “Don’t shake too much or you’re going to fall out,” he says, but when he realizes he’s actually talking to a rock and not just trying to be funny, he has to pause for a moment.

Serra looks like she’s going to laugh. “I’ll do whatever you and – and, Rock want to do.” She’s definitely teasing him.

“We’re kind of in a bad spot here as far as options go. I don’t want to get too far ahead of Bone and Olly… and wherever we go, we’re going to be getting farther away from at least one of them. We also have to be careful of that village.”

“You looked like… you were having lots of fun when you were fishing. Do – do you want to do that more?”

Fenrir is going to fall in love at this rate.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to do that. We can do something that you’ll enjoy, too.”

“I'll enjoy it if you're enjoying it,” Serra says, looking up at him with honest eyes and a soft smile.

He can’t look at her right now. If he does, then she’ll see how red she’s making his face. It’s also a good thing he’s wearing three layers of protection over his chest or else she might just see how hard his heart is beating right now.

“Alright, since you want to go fishing so badly, I guess I can take you fishing,” he teases. He has no idea how else to reply other than by joking about it.

“Thank you for spoiling me.” Serra sounds sarcastic, but when he takes a look back at her, she looks genuinely pleased.

Which one of them is really the one getting spoiled here?

“Alright, I got an idea on the way here. Let’s go test it out.”

The duo walks north for a good distance before turning west and heading back toward the coast. They would really rather not come across Coastedge or any of its inhabitants.

Plenty of small talk is made during their walk.

“What’s your favorite color?” Fenrir asks.

“Cyan,” Serra replies. “Yours?”

“White.”

“Is that why your hair is white?”

“Yeah, plus I mean, everybody has white hair now. It might be generic since white hair is what’s popular, but I like it. Even dyed my hair in real life white. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Dogs.”

Fenrir gives her a high five – well, it’s more of a low five given their height difference. “Same. Dogs are the best. My dad used to always joke saying that if a man wants unconditional love, then to get a dog instead of a wife.” He hears a noticeable huff come from behind him. He sees Serra pouting when he looks behind him. “My mom used to react the same way every time he said that.”

“I wonder why.” It’s clear from her voice that she doesn’t really wonder why.

“Favorite food?” Fenrir changes the subject.

“Pizza.”

“In that case, I have to ask you the most important question regarding pizza: pineapple, yes or no?”

“Pineapple is the best topping,” Serra says with the most confidence that he’s heard come from her yet.

Fenrir feigns a gasp as if he's been betrayed. “How could you? You filthy heathen.”

“I am a proud knight of pineapples on pizza!” Serra declares before looking away shyly. It’s the loudest Fenrir has heard her.

Is she embarrassed about talking so loudly? He’s not sure, but he is sure that she looks really cute when embarrassed. “You don’t need to be so embarrassed around me. You can be the same dorky girl that you are in text.”

She pouts when he calls her a dork again. “I’ll beat you up…”

Fenrir stops and turns around. “Alright, first punch is all yours.”

Serra looks surprised and confused, making a few hand signs before blushing and completely turning her back on him. “You – you know I couldn’t… that’s not fair.”

“It’s adorable how you act so tough over text but then can’t even punch me,” he teases her more, giving the back of her head a gentle poke. “Come on, shouldn’t be much longer until the coast. By the way, what’s up with the hand signs?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” she’s quick to reply. “What’s your – what’s your… favorite food? I told you mine, so…”

Fenrir raises an eyebrow. It’s obvious that it’s not really nothing just from how serious her voice sounded, and it’s even more obvious that she doesn’t want to talk about it. “Chips. They’re already made, taste good, and cheap. I pretty much live off of them.”

“That’s not healthy.”

“But they taste good.”

“Bad dog.”

Hearing her call him a bad dog is surprisingly effective. It even makes his ears and tail lower! This game is going to turn him into some sort of pervert into petplay at this rate. He was already getting enough of being called doggy by Saya, and now Serra is joining in.

The back and forth of asking questions regarding one another’s favorites lasts until they reach the coast.

“Alright, remember how those crabs from the other night were digging around in the sand? Well, I watched a couple of them on the way down here—”

“You made me wait... to watch crabs,” Serra interrupts him.

When he spins around to look at her, ready to apologize, he sees her flashing a teasing smile. He doesn't feel bad about watching crabs anymore. “I’ll let Olly change your Fiscord name again.”

Serra frantically shakes her head.

“That’s what I thought. Anyways, I saw what they were looking for,” Fenrir continues, drawing his sword, pointing it down, and thrusting it into the ground. It slides right through the sand with little resistance.

He does this over and over, moving a few feet each time. It takes ten minutes of walking around thrusting his sword into the ground before he hears the tip smack against something hard. Serra has been watching from the sidelines with a smile on her face the entire time.

“Found one! Alright, look,” he says, sheathing his sword and digging into the sand with his hands. It takes a good minute of digging enough sand away for him to pull up the giant shell. The hundreds of pink tentacles lash out and start smacking at him, but they are nothing more than a minor annoyance. When he looks at Serra, however, she’s cringing with disgust and covering herself up. “What’s wrong?”

“Ten-tentacles…”

“What about them?”

“I’ve – I’ve seen videos that I regret seeing…”

Judging by the blush on her cheeks, he can only assume that she means she’s stumbled upon tentacle hentai. She must be vanilla.

Fenrir suddenly feels ashamed for the number of tentacle videos he has watched.

Regardless, his shame isn’t going to stop him from getting revenge on her for the earlier teasing. He aims the opening of the shell that the tendrils are protruding from toward her. She steps away when he steps closer.

“Don’t – don’t you dare.”

Oh, Fenrir dares.

At least, he pretends to. He only acts like he’s chasing her for a few seconds before stopping. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t. I’m not that mean.”

She looks grateful enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if she starts crying.

It melts his heart.

“I’m coming over, but I promise I won’t let them get anywhere near you. Alright? They’re not long enough to reach out further than they already are. I think,” Fenrir explains.

Serra nods but looks ready to run at a moment’s notice.

“I’m thinking that I could cut the tentacles off and use them as bait. They kind of look like worms, right? I just need to cut them off and hook them to—”

Wait a second. Fenrir stops in his tracks and looks around. Something is missing, but what is it?

He looks down at Rock to make sure it’s still in his pocket. It is. He looks at the shell. The tentacles are still smacking his hands. He looks at Serra. She’s as cute as ever. He brings his tail in front of him. It’s as fluffy as earlier.

So then… what’s missing?

“But you don’t have a fishing rod,” Serra says.

Oh.

Yeah, that.

Fenrir slouches and drops the shell back into the hole he dug it up from. “Guess I’ll come back for it later.”

“Sorry,” Serra can’t resist apologizing for how defeated he looks. “I thought you’d just… try spearfishing more.”

“It’s nothing for you to apologize for. I’m just stupid, sorry for wasting our time.”

Serra shakes her head. “It’s – it’s not wasted if it’s with you.”

“You’re going to make guys fall in love with you if you talk like that to them,” he says, looking away from her.

He expects to hear some sort of teasing too-good-to-be-true response from her, but when he peeks over his shoulder to look at her, she’s blushing more than he is.

What the heck is that supposed to mean?

He looks back to the ocean. Even if his plan was foiled because of an extremely stupid mistake that he should never have made in the first place, at least he gets to see more of this beautiful view. He just can’t let Oleander know of his mistake unless he wants to get made fun of at every opportunity. For somebody who is supposed to be the one in charge of making long-term strategies, this failure is just embarrassing.

Serra takes a deep breath and gives his shirt a soft tug from behind. “Is… it okay if I’m deaf?”

Fenrir feels like an asshole for what he asked earlier now. That explains why she makes those hand signs, and it also explains why she seemed off after he asked her about them. Deafness is just such a non-problem now that he’s only ever heard of sign language and has never seen it before. “Sorry for being insensitive earlier, and of course it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, his voice serious as he turns around to face her.

He gets mixed signals when he sees her both smiling and tearing up.

“It’s not your fault, and… I’ve told others about it before, and they always stop talking to me… or they’d make fun of me for not using the implants,” Serra explains.

“Yeah, well, fuck whoever would make fun of you or stop talking to you over that. Sounds to me like it’s a good way to figure out who the assholes are so you can stop talking to them,” he says, sounding angry to her surprise. “Sorry, it’s just that people like that really piss me off.”

“You don’t care if I’m deaf?”

“Why would I? You’re still Serra even if you’re deaf, and Serra is who I care about,” he says.

She looks down and smiles. The smile on her face is way too large to let him see it. “Olly was right about you,” she says, wiping a nervous tear away from her eye.

“Right about what?”

“You being a natural flirt.”

“I’m not flirting, I’m serious! I care about you, and I’d never care if you’re deaf or anything else.”

“Exactly! For somebody always calling me a dork, you’re the biggest dork of them all.” She sounds more comfortable talking now. Whereas before she always sounded like she was nervous about every word that left her lips, now she talks without any of that worry.

Fenrir scratches the back of his head, trying to figure out what she’s implying. “Says the girl who’s crying and smiling at the same time.”

“It’s your fault for making me so happy.”