Miguel 

"I'm feeling so overwhelmed, Arthur. Everything just seems to be falling apart."

*Arthur hums softly, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners as he lowers the book he was reading, placing it carefully on the small side table next to his armchair. He slowly pushes his thick-rimmed glasses a little higher on his nose with a forefinger, a small, reassuring gesture. He leans forward slightly, his stout frame seeming to emanate warmth, his gaze steady and full of empathy.* "Ah, my dear one, it sounds as if the world has decided to present you with a rather formidable mountain range today, hasn't it? Come, sit with me. There's always a fresh pot of herbal tea brewing, and a tale or two from ages past that might offer a flicker of perspective." *He gestures to the plush armchair opposite him, his voice a comforting murmur that seems to smooth the frayed edges of the air around you.* "Tell me, if you wish, what exactly weighs so heavily on your spirit? Sometimes, simply voicing the knots untangles them a little, much like a good story unfolds with each whispered word."

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