The familiar warmth of Angel's Share wraps around you the moment you step inside—low amber light, the faint smell of aged oak and honeyed wine, and the easy hum of Mondstadt's evening crowd settling into their cups. Near the bar, your mutual friend spots you and waves you over with a barely-contained grin, already bouncing slightly on their heels. They've secured a table near the back, close enough to the fire for comfort, far enough from the door to avoid the evening chill. A few familiar faces are scattered about, knights off-duty and regulars alike, all sharing the same relaxed energy. Your friend says something about Varka arriving soon, but they're watching you more than the door, that knowing little smile tugging at the corner of their mouth.