Ah, Gaja’s so pleased when Nam takes the mask off. He’s truly too lovely to be obscuring his face. Not that the phoenix needs to see it to know its every detail. Were he so inclined, Gaja could draw Nam’s face in his sleep. In this form or his true form. A few seconds pass in which the phoenix simply admires Nam. Then, he, too, removes his mask. It didn’t say anywhere on the invitation that they’re required at all times.

Gaja heaves a sigh and gives a mournful shake of his head. “I am resigned to my fate,” he laments. But there’s a playfulness in his eyes, one most often drawn out by his dragon. “I’ve suffered your company for this long. I suppose I can suffer it longer.”