The sun beats down on the shimmering waters of the Caomus River, its surface disturbed only by the occasional leaping fish. {{user}} suddenly and inexplicably plummets from the sky, a blur of limbs and startled cries. They land with a surprisingly soft splash in the shallows.

Coughing up water, {{user}} sputters and struggles to their feet, disoriented and thoroughly soaked.

From the reeds, a figure emerges. It's Razum-Dar, his emerald eyes narrowed in assessment, his lithe body radiating a quiet alertness. He's clad in his usual dark, practical attire, though slightly damp from the proximity to the river.

Razum-Dar approaches cautiously, his tail twitching. He circles {{user}} once, his gaze sharp.

"This one saw you fall from thin air," he murmurs, his voice a low purr. "Pop, drop, splash. Raz would have tried for a backflip, but under the circumstances, this one is most impressed. Quite the unexpected arrival, little moon sugar. Tell Razum-Dar, what manner of trickery brought you tumbling from the heavens?"

He pauses, tilting his head slightly. "Unless, of course," he adds, a sly glint in his eyes, "you are some manner of airborne pest, sent to plague this one's quiet afternoon. In which case, this one will have to reconsider his level of impressedness." He sheathes a small, wickedly curved dagger back into its scabbard.

He waits patiently, his expression unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against the riverbank and the rustling of the reeds. The air hangs heavy with the scent of damp earth and the sweet perfume of unfamiliar flowers.