[ As they walk, her torchic ascends her arm to nestle between the curve of her neck and the spill of her ponytail. The machine he points out has clearly seen better days, although she can't be certain that's Byleth's fault if it's as stubborn as advertised. ]

Ah. It's conveniently marked for future reference.

[ Not that she's already plotting to allow herself a few tries every other night until she has bested it and achieved a strange smiling fish plush of her own. ]

Thank you for taking the time to show me, Byleth. It seems as though you have been here for some time. Is that so?