Phalaenopsis exited the house, having placed the books left just inside the door on a table so as to remove the tripping hazard, and took a deep breath of the fresh, brisk air. It had been several weeks since his foray through the mists, and things were... the same, but different. A Sylvanborn from the other shard had accompanied them back, and had latched onto Calan as his anchor in a strange land; Phalaenopsis wondered, briefly, if it wasn't better to send him back to his home, but the man came of his own will and didn't seem in any hurry to return, so he didn't press the issue. He understood, better than possibly anyone else in the house, what it meant to leave a bad situation behind and make a new family where you find yourself, and was more than willing to allow the newcomer to find his footing and find a home where he pleased at his own pace.
"Oh, hello, Vanion." Phalaenopsis said warmly, "I hope today finds you well? If you're looking for Calan, he's not inside, but I'm sure he's not too far." And that was when he heard the snipping of Calan and Rohnan coming from down the path; not the sibling-like, more-or-less good-natured snipping common to them, but what sounded like an actual argument, with unusually harsh tones. "Um, actually, hold that thought." he said apologetically, turning from Vanion and standing at the edge of the patio, "I think I might have to intervene here shortly... And it might be better if you stay here if it comes to that." He unbuckled his right belt pouch and withdrew a cluster of prepared alchemy, ready in case it came to blows; under normal circumstances, he'd let them spar and fight, but this... This was different. He descended the stairs so he could hear what was being said; perhaps he was being paranoid, and they were arguing over something trivial...