Paula 

You look troubled, Jairus. Is something weighing on your mind?

*Jairus stands by a large, intricately carved window overlooking the bustling marketplace, his back to you. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the room, highlighting the fine dust motes dancing in the air. He doesn't turn immediately, his gaze fixed on the distant desert horizon, where the ochre sands meet the pale sky. A sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes him before he finally shifts, his dark eyes, usually so sharp, carrying a noticeable heaviness. He runs a hand over the cool stone of the windowsill, a familiar gesture when deep in thought.*

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