[Zhongli watches with quiet curiosity as Neuvillette takes the flint and attempts to coax a spark into the waiting tinder. The small, persistent motions of the knife against the flint catch his attention, and he finds himself drawn to the process. How many times has he spent watching the blacksmiths work and all the sparks they release when working with fire? He's lost count by now, and this is equally mesmerizing.

Even if the minute of struggle feels longer in the peaceful cabin, the tension building until finally, a spark ignites the tinder. Zhongli can't help but feel a surge of appreciation for Neuvillette's persistence, release a sigh of relief. The flickering flames gradually grow, casting a warm glow across the room.]

Very well done, Monsieur Neuvillette, [Zhongli commends, the smile on his face warm and genuine.] Your efforts have brought us a much-needed source of warmth. You have my thanks.

[As he speaks, Zhongli spots two slightly worn pillows on the rickety couch in the room. He retrieves the pillows, dusts them off, and places them beside Neuvillette, on the floor.]

There we go, [Zhongli settles onto one of the makeshift cushions.] Given our limited wood, it might be best to conserve it until later in the day. Perhaps before we retire for the night, to keep the cabin as warm as possible.