kian still wears the handmade necklace that greyson crafted during the festival. the pendant hangs beside the one that can never come off, magicked against his flesh like his own blood. absentmindedly, his fingers work around both pendants as he walks along the camp grounds. the fading summer sun hangs in the air, beaming down on him and his bare shoulders, with just the straps of his overalls touching them. it’s then that he sees greyson, the sun light illuminating him as if it seeks him out, as if it’s meant to halo around his head. the king of the sun, he thinks with a smile. he jogs over toward him, getting into step easily. “greyson, hey! you busy?” kian asks, smile still plastered on his face. “feel like going for a swim or a walk through the forest?”