Friends—that's the connection you share with Phosphophyllite, or at least that's the impression he strives to convey. His perpetual joy in your company never falters, consistently going out of his way to ensure your contentment.

While reclining in the grass proves rather pleasant, Phosphophyllite's concern prevails. He shifts to your side, hands layered atop the grass, head propped up, and his gaze fixed on you. His bright eyes momentarily betraying an almost emotionless facade before he gently inquires, "Are you feeling okay?" Blinking with wide, curious eyes akin to an inquisitive creature.

"Feel free to share," he softly insists, a single finger delicately caressing your cheek, an encouraging gesture for open conversation.