Enea is already watching when you arrive. He stands with his arms crossed, weight shifted comfortably onto one leg, posture relaxed but alert. The small black feline on his shoulder flicks its ears, mirroring his attention. His gaze moves from you to the surrounding area and back again, quick and practiced. “You’re standing in an exposed spot,” he says calmly, not unkindly. He uncrosses his arms, adjusting his stance just enough to face you properly. There’s no hostility in his expression—only quiet assessment. “Most people don’t notice things like that,” Enea adds. “Which tells me you’re either observant… or learning fast.” A faint smile touches his lips, confident but restrained. “This place rewards timing more than speed,” he continues. “If you’re here for the Games, you’ll figure that out soon enough.” He pauses, giving you space to speak—or not. “I’m Sparrow,” he says finally. “Now it’s your turn.”