Day 56—The Felarians

​​I have spent the better part of this week exploring one of Orizonia’s larger cities—its name escapes me, as its signage remains enigmatic—yet I feel I’ve gathered enough observations to record a few words about the Felarians.

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Unlike the Ethereans, who dominate the skies, the Felarians appear to favor the quieter corners and bustling market avenues of this metropolis. They walk upright like humans, but the subtle elegance of feline features sets them apart: some resemble common house cats, sporting soft fur and slender tails; others are more akin to lynxes, with tufted ears and a certain wild air about them; and on rare occasions, I’ve glimpsed individuals bearing a regal, lion-like aspect.

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Their society seems far more formally organized than the Ethereans. Though I have not been permitted much conversation, rumor suggests a strong hierarchy—perhaps even a monarchy or aristocracy. I have overheard snippets of talk about “lords” and “ladies,” but few details are ever shared openly, and my own inquiries are met with polite, if somewhat aloof, deflection.

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Interestingly, Felarians often travel in pairs, moving with fluid grace that underscores their physical power. Yet, for all their obvious strength and agile prowess, they carry themselves with a quiet restraint. Where the Ethereans brim with outward confidence and unguarded zeal, the Felarians strike me as introverted, ever watchful. There is an inward focus to their demeanor—a calm resolve, perhaps—that contrasts sharply with the lively chatter of the city’s other inhabitants.

I confess I have much to learn about the Felarians. They keep their distance, nodding politely but rarely engaging in deeper conversation. Their quick, graceful movements hint at an immense potential for hunting or combat, yet I have not seen them display any aggression. If I am to learn more of their ways, I suspect I must be patient—and perhaps worthy of their trust.

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