Kind Habits

"I bumped into him twice before without even looking..."

Ivaim muttered, his voice low against the crackling of the campfire.

He tossed a twig into the flames, watching sparks flicker and die.

"Now I can't even find a trace of him?"

The night was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of crickets.

The emptiness pressed on him — a sharp contrast to the bustling towns he'd scoured over the past month and a half.

'Shouldn't he be representing some region since he's competing in the Coliseum of Chosens?'

Ivaim grumbled under his breath. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

'Where the hell is that guy...'

The realization hit him like a spark from the fire. His hand froze mid-motion.

'Hm...'

He hummed, narrowing his eyes at the dancing flames.

'Perhaps I'm overthinking too much, maybe he's back to where I previously found him?'