Luneshale Pass another odyssey

saya's sharp gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, the hint of a smirk curling her lips as she appraised the man before her. his confidence, though grating, was undeniable—perhaps even intriguing in a way she wouldn’t openly admit.

sayanthe, she offered, her tone smooth and deliberate, matching his measured words. a slight pause followed, as if weighing the decision, before she added with a flick of her tail, but you can call me saya.

her name was a gift she rarely gave, but there was something about samirseti—lanky and golden-eyed—that made her curious. even if she wouldn’t show it outright.

so, she began, tilting her head slightly, her smirk deepening, do you always make it a habit of circling women like prey, or am i just lucky today? her tone carried that edge of teasing, sharp but not without its own allure. she wonders if he did this tango with arslan.