As Maxwell left the gates of the Giralian Estate with Frilo standing on his shoulder, he let out a soft sigh, pausing to gaze skyward at the warmth of the sun. Evening was fast approaching, and the heat of the sunlight had grown remarkably mellow.
Maxwell stood under the warmth, one hand on his waist, the other hand raised like a visor to shield his eyes as he squinted, staring at the sun.
Frilo, standing on his shoulder, let out a low squeaking sound.
Max immediately frowned, moving his sight and attention away from the sun as he gazed at the spirit standing on his shoulder.
'Where did you scurry off earlier?'
Frilo grinned mischievously as it sat on Max's shoulder.
Then a flute-like sound bellowed.
Maxwell's brows relaxed, and he even raised a brow.
"I'll find out tomorrow?" As he asked this, Maxwell chuckled. "Now you've got me curious what you're up to."
