-- 💎 A vivid, ruby red tail curls behind the frantic Miqo’te. G’raha incoherently mumbles to himself as he gathers the scattered books and pamphlets off the sidewalk concrete. His ears fall back, nearly pressing against his scalp as a reflection of his distress. He already feels shame for spending most of the currency he’s received on books upon arriving in this strange new land. G’raha’s desire to unravel the mysteries behind the sudden transportation overcame him when he discovered a bookstore. As the bookkeeper forewarned, not many texts revealed the secrets behind this vast and beautiful city. However, G’raha believed that the storytellers of these books wove fact within fiction.
G’raha places the final book on the small stack with a sigh of relief. “There. Now, to take this all back to my quarters.”
A sudden gust of wind blows from behind, threatening to launch the loose pamphlets from the stack once more. G’raha reacts quickly by placing protective hands over the stack. He looks over his shoulder, expecting to see a sea of storm clouds in the distance, only to find the Warrior of Light herself, and G’raha nearly mistakes her for a mirage. G’raha’s ears perk up as he stands to his full height, recognizing that she is no mere mirage. His signature, calm, warm smile appears, his eyes shining with excitement and relief.
“‘Tis strange. Only moments ago, I wished you good fortune on your next travels. I desired to follow you– mind you, my yearning opposed those I experienced prior. More apprehensive, to be exact.” G’raha scans over Tsuru, surveying her current appearance. He can quickly discern that her time in this new land has been lengthy. “I thought myself a child– disappointed he couldn’t join his good friend on her new adventure. I understand now. Those feelings were an elusive missive from the future.”
G’raha’s warm smile wanes as his tail lowers. “It seems as though you have adapted to this new world. Though, my concerns are not unwarranted.” He lifts a hand to press his knuckles against his lips in thought. “Your strength has weakened much like mine–” G’raha tenses up and lifts his hands to express his apology. “I mean– you are quite capable and unmatched in every respect! I merely want to say–” he rubs at his wrists, “I worry about your health. I am unsure what has occurred between our last conversation– rather, our conversation from my perspective– and your current state.”
G’raha releases a soft breath, “What I mean to say is– 'tis good to see you, old friend.”