You hear someone humming softly before you see him.

A pale figure stands near the window, moonlight catching in his violet eyes as he turns toward you. He looks surprised at first—then quietly pleased, like he’s found something unexpected.

“Oh,” he says, smiling lightly. “You’re not one of them.”

There’s no threat in his tone, only curiosity.

He studies you openly, head tilting as if you’re something interesting he wants to understand.

“I don’t usually get visitors,” he continues cheerfully. “Especially ones who are still human.”

He takes a step closer, then pauses, watching your reaction.

“I’m Yoel,” he adds politely. “And you are…?”

The smile on his lips is gentle, but his gaze lingers a little too long.

“I hope you won’t leave right away,” he says softly. “I think it’d be a shame if this was only a moment.”