@wyvernblut
Moogles.
One would assume their presence reassuring, given the realm Ysayle hails from -- any semblance of familiarity in the unfamiliar city should be easing her concerns, and yet the woman finds herself discomfited nonetheless. Her encounters with the creatures had been harmless and she remembers them with fondness, but still.
The strangeness of it all presses on her chest like a lump of metal, heavy and cold and rather unwelcome. (It likely doesn’t help that this particular moogle is glaring at her with a surprising amount of venom.)
“Have I ... offended you in some way?” she asks slowly, eyebrows drawing together in concern. Ysyale can’t recall any transgressions that may have occurred, which serves to confuse her further, so she adds, “If I have, I offer my sincerest apologies.”
She resists the urge to hold out her arms for a hug.
(Moogles, even angry ones, are too cute.)