A single glance is cast downwards towards those bare feet, though it comes without judgment and ends the moment Gabranth turns to begin his own steady walk through winding corridors. He’d originally intended to take in air while the morning chill yet lingered. Now, he cuts a different path— one to spare a magister’s son cut heels or sore skin.

“Your efforts since Cloudreach, how do they fare?”

They’d not spoken even during their slow return, after all, and Gabranth had departed halfway through to see to the matter of Jone’s wellbeing. Necessary delays, ever translating into lengthy absences.