While Ateshai has no problem with that, Runla will eventually loudly clear her throat and declare, "Do I need to get a bucket?"

(‘Bucket’, lacking relevant connotations in Wecheyum, is instead translated as ‘kedheipedjui’- a box of ice water. This oddly specific connotation derived from an old fable in which a rose, overcome by the overexuberance of her young lover, imprisons him within a ‘kedheipedjui’ for thirty-six days and thirty-six nights. Each day, he prays to another deity, before at last reaching Our Lady of Silence, the Marble Midwife. She- or so the story goes- promptly sets him free, transforms his former paramour into a pillar of salt, and renders him forever cold, apathetic, and mute, so as to prevent him from once again returning to his prior predicament. This is widely considered to have been a slight overreaction.)

Kadlawen reluctantly disentangles from Ateshai, and smiles at Runla.

”Oh, goodness, um- my apologies!” he chirps. 

"You two are worse than cats in heat."

Ateshai is both blushing and making a very valiant attempt to sink into the ground.

“I suspect that my standards for such are a touch different than your own, which isn’t dreadfully surprising- by this time on my second date with Lalvien we’d already had sex four times and we had to communicate entirely via telepathy. I feel positively chaste.”

"That is very atypical for most Federation cultures, though I could name a few exceptions. Ours is on the liberal side of things, but I would generally expect you two to know each other a bit longer first."

“Oh?”

(He’s opts to hold Ateshai’s hand and rub soothing circles in it. Eee! He can do that now without feeling pushy!)

"It varies, some idiot teenagers roll into the bushes together within seconds of meeting. But the cultural expectation is six or more dates, and the compromise is usually four dates, and my brother is an easily embarrassed prude so he might invent a spell that lets him sink into the ground if you bring it up."

(Indeed, that seems to be what Ateshai is currently trying to do.)

Iyurei notices this- having otherwise stood by placidly as assorted events proceeded- and, leaning in his direction, gently boops his forehead with a reptilian nose.

Awwww best dragon.

Ateshai is still very blushy but at least Iyurei is something to distract himself with.

Meanwhile, over with Isekura, a pheonix blazes into existence.

”Our Lady of the Burning Note hath of your presence wised,” it/he/she/they sings, in an androgynous contralto. “And in accordance with this truth, her blessing‘s now applied- applied to Isekura, yes, who comes from heavens high.”

Isekura, who has been interfacing with the planet's biologists and medical people, blinks in shock.

The phoenix, being a bird and corrrspondingly unfamiliar with human facial expressions, doesn’t immediately respond to this. After a pause, she- settling on the pronoun most traditionally used for phoenixes- looks at Isekura quizzically, cocking her head exaggeratedly to the side.

"So, ah, who are you - are you a familiar?"

“Yes,” intones the pheonix.

"I hadn't been aware non-natives could acquire familiars, though I suppose it does suggest that the selection criteria align more with sapience than species... What abilities do you offer?"

The pheonix stares at her blankly.

She glances over to one of the medical people.

"What do phoenixes. Do?"

The medical people, while helpful, are somewhat primitive in terms of practical knowledge; they have a great deal of theoretical knowhow, but practical matters are, it seems, generally tended to with thaumaturgy or a helpful unicorn mage. The differences between Ruwien kerewutu and more standard genetic materials have nevertheless been a matter of much fascination, and discussion.

”Uh, they, like, do stuff with resurrections and energy immunity and intangibility and stuff?” says one helpful, rose-colored intern. “I have a cousin with one- he, like, helps out whenever my plants die. I can look up a chart, if you want? And it should reply back if you ask it what tier it is, it looks like a noble to me, which, like, wow.”

”I don’t know,” says one of the more distinguished roses in the room, thoughtfully. “I’d call it more of a greater pheonix, myself- which is still rather impressive, of course.”

“I wonder if it’s a royal?” wonders one of the biologists. “I think that it’s usually royal phoenixes who have that sort of crest...”

"What sort of phoenix are you?" she asks, obligingly.

“Noble,” sings the pheonix sagely. 

“Uh- noble phoenixes can grant the ability to go properly, fully intangible, without that resulting in an inability to channel mana like it does when you go intangible using thaumaturgy, or the ability to self-resurrect at arbitrary locations at will, with a one day delay,” rattles off the biologist, having once memorized a relevant chart. “And then for their greater blessings, they grant the ability to become immune to any one of the four elements at will, the ability to make other people intangible with a touch, and the ability to resurrect someone who’s died within the last few minutes, once a week? And then you would get two of those? And then there are a bunch of other ones...? It’ll probably respond with a ‘yes/no’ if you ask if it grants specific powers, you should probably do that.”

Alright, she'll start running down the list for phoenix powers, then.

This pheonix, as revealed when comprehensively quizzed, grants:

~ Self resurrection.

~ The resurrection of the recent dead, once a week- without the corresponding penalties associated with clerical ressurection.

~ The granting of intangibility to others, with a touch.

~ The ability to turn a single limb of choice ethereal, at will.

~ Immunity to relatively mild acid.

~ The ability to resurrect recently deceased plants and invertebrates at will.

And, for the lesser powers:

~ A slight increase in the rate of one’s renewal of fatigue, the capacity to the ability to interact with precious gemstones as if they were vaporous, an expansion of one’s comfortable temperature range by about thirty degrees in both directions, and, somewhat incongruously, perfect pitch.

"Interesting. Thank you. Do you have a name?"