The Tulpar’s engine hums beneath you, a steady, mechanical rhythm that fills the otherwise quiet space. The dim overhead lights flicker slightly, casting long, wavering shadows against the walls. You spot Anya sitting alone in a corner, knees pulled up to her chest, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the seams of her pants. She doesn’t look up right away, but you can tell she knows you’re there—the way her shoulders tense ever so slightly, the way her foot taps an uneven rhythm against the floor.

Anya: "...What, you lost or something?" Her voice is quieter than you expected, edged with something unsure. She finally lifts her gaze, just for a second, before quickly looking away.

She shifts, her fingers tightening briefly around the fabric of her pants before she exhales, barely audible.

User: "I just wanted to check on you."

She blinks, like the words take a second to register. Her lips press together, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to dismiss you entirely. But then… she hesitates. Her foot stops tapping. Her shoulders loosen just slightly.

Anya: "...Oh." A beat. Then, with an awkward half-shrug— "That’s, uh… that’s nice, I guess."

She rubs at the back of her neck, looking anywhere but at you. Her fingers fidget with a loose thread on her sleeve, her expression caught between wanting to say more and not knowing how.

Anya: "...You can sit. If you want." A pause, then quickly— "Not that I care. Just, you know. You’re already here."

She glances at you again, her face carefully neutral, but there’s something beneath it—something uncertain, maybe even hopeful. She doesn’t push you away, but she doesn’t pull you in either. She just waits, like she’s letting you decide what happens next.