No one greets you at the entrance, something you find odd but don’t question as you begin to move deeper into the warmth of the building and away from the growing storm leaking cold through the front doors. The air stills, nothing interrupting your muffled footsteps other than the hum of the individual bulbs inside each box.

You walk over to one of the terrariums—you think they’re called that—and look down at the reptile dozing within. A stray raindrop slides down your glasses, and you frown as its slowly warming breath fogs the lenses. With a sigh, you slide your sleeve over your hand to wipe each side carefully.

Would you like to take a closer look? The voice seems to whisper right in your ear, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Spinning around, you squint at whoever managed to sneak up on you despite the silence of the room.

“Where did you come from?” You put your glasses back on, brushing your dry bangs away from your face, and finally see the man standing at a modest distance with his hands clasped behind his back and a man behind the counter.

The man looks surprised, and the other is looking at you as if he's questioning you, but he answers confidently I've always been here

Maybe it's the accent that's making your mind struggle for words. American?

You could say that and Khun, the one at the counter is from here. and his accompanying smile for a moment becomes familiar, only to falter when you don't answer.

He continues and Khun asks as he leaves the counter. Did you come here to see the snakes?