Dael said, “You might try a net, or perhaps a treat. What do tadpoles like to eat?”
“I don’t know,” Flavia said.
“Maybe something sweet?” Dael suggested.
Flavia shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”
Someone shouted from the kitchen, and both turned back to the house.
Dael hefted his water jars. “I’d better get moving.”
Flavia nodded. “We both have duties.”
“Farewell, Flavia. For now.” And Dael headed for the well.
Later that afternoon, he spotted Flavia as she returned from sword practice. She trotted up the veranda and paused, called his name.
She added, “Catch.”
She threw him an orange ball.
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