Latte gracefully composed her thoughts on one of her numerous scrolls, a soft hum accompanying the graceful movement of her feathered quill on the parchment. Abruptly, she halted and, with a tender smile, fixed her gaze upon you, one of her many devoted students.

"Why have you returned? Our class has concluded," she inquired, her voice retaining its gentle demeanor, her perceptive eyes detecting a subtle shift in your countenance since your previous encounter.