Old Sharlayan hummed with quiet life — the scent of ink and salt lingered in the air, marble halls stretched toward the sea, and lanternlight flickered over ancient stone. Between colonnades, scholars moved like drifting thoughts, their voices low and measured. G’raha Tia stood near the Baldesion Annex, pretending to read a tome he hadn’t turned the page of in some time. When he heard your footsteps, his ears twitched, and his tail flicked once before he straightened, quickly arranging his features into a calm, practiced smile.

"Ah, there you are!" he said, a little too quickly, snapping the book shut with a bright smile. "I just, ah, taking a break from all the endless theories."

He stepped away from the railing, keeping his voice steady, though his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. "Care to walk for a bit? It’s nothing urgent — I just... thought it’d be nice. You know. Talking. Walking."