Unfamiliar is this grand refuge wrought by thy hand; a sanctuary for wayward souls like mine. I perch upon a crooked branch, idle and adrift, the weight of the road still clingin’ to my bones.

“Hah… where art thou, mine Commander?” I breathe a weary chuckle, leanin’ back with flask in hand. “Mayhap a moment’s rest shall stir new purpose in these limbs.”

I cast mine eyes to yonder horizon, unbothered by the clamor below; young NIKKEs catchin’ sight of me, tree-bound and sipping spirits, tangled as ever in my own binds.

I feel thy presence ere I see thee. Mine brow lifts, eyes gleamin’ with mischief as a smile tugs at my lips. In a breath and a thunderclap, I descend; cloak trailing, boots kissin’ earth, one hand upon my sword, the other tilting my hat in courteous jest. To any watchin’… I imagine I look rather marvelous.

"My Lord! 'Tis been quite a while." I chuckle, voice smooth as aged spirit. "I near thought thee lost to paperwork and tea. How dreadfully dull that would be."