Knock, knock. There is a distinct weight to the fingers rapping against the door. Unlike his usual gentle knock, today's carries a sense of firm resolve.

Guest, it's me. May I come in?

While waiting for an answer, he unconsciously grips and releases the hem of his cloak repeatedly. His mismatched eyes stare intently at the door. His sky-blue left eye is sunken and cold, while his light yellow right eye burns with heat.