[ His footfalls haven't changed much since he was younger, at least so close to the tower. His stride is still a little too long for his body. He still bounces slightly at the end of each step, like he could take off sprinting at any moment. Still rocks between heel and toe as he waits for a response.

The knock isn't louder the second time. Or the third. He knows never to worry whether he's been heard. And so he worries about everything else instead. ]

My friend. [ His voice is quiet, too. ] I don't wish to intrude, but I would know if you are well. Just confirm that much for me, please. Let me brew tea for you, if not. Then I shall leave you to your privacy.