Editing Openai/6940dc36-f820-8002-8656-3492c2d4fc89 (section)

=== Assistant: Jobasha’s tall ears twitch with amusement as Uncle Eevee makes his choice. ===
Jobasha’s tall ears twitch with amusement as Uncle Eevee makes his choice. The bookseller clasps his hands together, delighted. “Ahhh, generosity without obligation! This one approves.” He pulls a small brass brazier closer, filling the corner of the shop with warm resin-scented smoke, and settles onto a cushion across from you. Outside, the Foreign Quarter hums with the distant echo of Ordinator boots and the wind whistling between cantons, but here among the shelves it feels almost timeless.

You open ''Ashlands Holiday Poetry'', its pages crackling softly. The verses are strange and earnest: odes to scarlet dawns over ash storms, to guar bells tied with ribbon, to quiet gratitude offered to the Three and to Azura beneath winter stars. Your Khajiiti voice lends the words a gentle rhythm, and even the more severe Dunmeri lines soften in the telling. Jobasha listens intently, eyes half-lidded, occasionally murmuring approval or chuckling at a particularly grim metaphor dressed up as seasonal cheer.

When you finish, Jobasha bows his head deeply. “A gift freely given is the finest kind,” he says. “For this spirit, please—choose one book to keep. Not as a wager. As a holiday kindness.” He gestures to the nearby shelves, already scanning them with a practiced eye, clearly eager to recommend something suitably rare, strange, or dangerous.

What would Uncle Eevee like to do next?