Maybe Arthur's priorities weren't helping him to be a good friend, but the first thing that caught his eye was the meat stall. A roast was slowly turning over a merry fire, and the storefront displayed sausages, sliced ham, and skewers of freshly cooked meat. Arthur's mouth watered, and his stomach rumbled, and it seemed as if he could smell the crispy, savoury goodness, even though that was likely just his imagination.

Leaves that he had earlier were, after all, just leaves, and now his body was reminding him it preferred more serious sustenance.

However, Arthur remembered that neither he nor Clark had the funds to try the food at the stall. Maybe the woman they were looking for—Delia—would tip them for the delivery?..

This wasn't why Arthur had been looking over some passerby's head, though. He belatedly remembered he saw tears in Clark's eyes and felt a bit ashamed to have been so distracted. He looked a bit to the left, scanning the plaza for whatever had caught Clark's eye, and... Oh, wow.

He hadn't noticed it before, with all the commotion and the closest stalls obscuring the view, but the centre of the plaza was decorated with a huge, elaborate fountain. What first caught Arthur's eye was the flickering of colours: the sculpture at the centre was made out of crystal, and the surrounding lights and shapes reflected and diffracted, making up an iridescent display of colours, which in turn made myriads of water droplets glitter. It was captivating.

The fountain was evidently a popular meeting spot: dozens of passersby stopped by it, sitting on the wide marble edges or standing nearby. Groups of friends met up or separated, each invariably stealing a glance at the display of colours.

"Beautiful, right?" Clark asked, hushed, evidently picking up the awe Arthur was feeling. He nodded, transfixed.

"Want to know what it's meant to symbolize?" the cricket continued, enthusiastic but obviously trying to be polite. Arthur smiled: he wouldn't have pegged Clark for a fine arts aficionado.