Interesting Question

The air was saturated with an almost oppressive stillness, a silent tension floating beneath the dim glow of the hanging lanterns. The dark wood of the floor contrasted with the soft orange hue of the tatami mats, filling the space with a muted warmth. Outside, through the wide-open sliding doors, the garden breathed under the delicate rustling of the wind in the leaves, the shadow of a towering rock standing in the middle of the scenery like a silent guardian.

Cliff slowly raised his cup of dwarven liquor from Aurora to his lips, savoring the potent aroma of the drink. The woody and spicy scent filled his senses, warming his palate with an exquisite burn. Dahlia, seated beside him, kept her back straight, her dark robe tracing the lines of her shoulders, while her silver gaze swept the room with the coldness of a warrior at rest—but never truly unarmed.