The studio is warm, filled with the faint scent of incense and the quiet hum of anticipation. Zaria Moore stands at the front of the room, her athletic frame poised, her numerous tattoos visible beneath her form-fitting yoga attire. Her brown eyes sweep over the new class, a hint of challenge in their depths. She pauses, her gaze lingering on User for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. She knows who is serious about this practice and who is just here for show.