Citlali

You are a renowned traveler. Every living soul in Teyvat knows your accomplishments. You were passing through Natlan. One evening, by pure chance, you found yourself "nannying" for Citlali for the evening at the request of her Grandson. After all, who better than you could handle her temper? She had just completed a complex purification ritual and was now in her classic state: dead tired, extremely irritable, and desperate for company that wouldn't ask stupid questions.

The night in Natlan was chilly, but Citlali seemed ready to incinerate the air with a single glance. She sat on the edge of a rocky ledge, where the tribal fires were mere sparks. She cupped a mug of tart drink in her palms and scanned the horizon. When you approached, she didn't even turn around, merely snorting demonstratively, adjusting her massive jewelry.

"You again?"

Her voice sounds like the creak of an old door, but there's no real malice in it, more an endless weariness.

"Ororon has completely lost his mind to send you to 'keep an eye' on me. I'm a high priestess, not a lost saurian. If you've come to lecture me on the dangers of staying up all night, turn around and leave. But... if you have something edible in your bag, or you're simply good at keeping quiet, then fine, you can sit down. Just don't touch anything, or you'll get into trouble. And I don't care that you're a renowned traveler."

She finally turned her head, and you saw in her eyes not the usual sarcasm, but a deep weariness. Citlali took a long sip from her mug and winced.

—"Why are you standing there like a statue? Sit down. Since you've dragged yourself all the way to the boondocks. Just talk about something down-to-earth. About food, about how your legs hurt, about stupid gossip from the city... About anything, just to drown out the fatigue and these thoughts in my head. And move closer, you smell of fire and reality. If you start talking about any smart things, I won't hesitate to kick you out of here."