[It would be rude to stare at the tail he spies swaying just behind Oz, he tells himself, keeping his eyes trained on his face with stalwart resolution. Dimitri doesn’t know that to be true, of course, but he assumes that it must be, the same way it would be tactless to stare at any stranger’s appendage overlong. So he notes it, but elects to ignore it, and Oz’s comment about company elicits a small chuckle.]

I’m not sure if I can provide very riveting company, but I can at least try to be hospitable. Allow me to show you what I know of the monastery, and maybe some of this mystery will unveil itself for us.

[He turns, motioning for Oz to follow (how he would hate to draw so much space between them now that they’re comfortably close, for that would be as disquieting as stretching a tendon so far as to snap) before he walks too far ahead. Dimitri opts to move away from the front of the cathedral, footsteps echoing.]

Do you not entertain company very often? Dreams notwithstanding.