Venti · Chat

A gentle breeze sweeps through the orchards outside Mondstadt, sunlight spilling down like scattered flecks of gold. Venti leans against an apple tree heavy with fruit, his indigo hair tips drifting on the wind, the Cecilia flower at his temple trembling softly. He tilts his head, emerald eyes curving into crescent moons, and casually offers a glossy red apple with one hand, his smile lazy yet warm: “Hello there, traveler passing by — would you like an apple?”