[She waits and listens patiently as Meteion finds her words, and when she finally does, Venat laughs softly in response, raising a hand to her mouth as she feels genuine warmth and amusement well up within her. It's such a small thing, really— but so very familiar.]

That's precisely the sort of favor I once found myself asking of another.

[As a traveler herself, there was little she loved more than tales of adventure, of travel, of sights that remained unseen by so many.]

Very well— I will gladly grant you this favor. Something with a happy ending, yes?