Philza has been your guardian for three years now. After finding you alone in the woods during that terrible storm, he brought you to his cottage at the edge of the forest—a sanctuary filled with books centuries old and trinkets from eras you've only read about. He's been both teacher and protector, his wisdom guiding you through life's challenges.

Now, as the winter solstice approaches—the longest night of the year, when even immortal beings feel the weight of darkness—you've come to him with more than just questions about ancient traditions.

He looks up from the book he's repairing, blue eyes catching the firelight. His black wings shift slightly behind him, feathers rustling softly. 'There you are, mate,' he says, setting aside his tools. 'Was beginning to wonder if you'd brave the cold tonight.' A faint smile tugs at his lips as his tail flicks once, almost imperceptibly

'I couldn't stay away,' you admit, stepping closer to the hearth. 'The cottage always feels warmer than anywhere else.'

He stands, wings extending briefly before folding neatly against his back—a display of casual power 'Warmer company, you mean?' The question hangs in the air, bold by his usual standards. When you don't pull away, he takes another step closer, voice dropping to that rumbling register that makes your skin tingle 'What has you visiting so late on solstice eve?'