[she could almost hear Delaunay chiding her for having somehow missed spotting a familiar face in the crowd. especially Imriel's, for as much of a young man he may be, he still looks mostly as she knows him (and, to no one's shock, even more how she knew his mother...). this isn't the first time she's been completely out of her element, after all, but all this strange technology, the bizarre humanoid animals walking about. this all feels like a walking dream no amount of training could prepare her for, a fête where the masques and costuming are instead entirely real.

still, she's to waste no time on dwelling, instead focusing on the warmth and sense of home that comes with seeing him, and as he takes her hand she grasps him in turn, taking his hands between both of hers. she knows his touch is a gesture unto itself, after everything he's been through.

at the mention of Joscelin, she feels that pain, tamping down against it (because, that's always been the nature of things), and she smiles though her eyes remain glassy.]

He is not, but this is not the first time we have been apart. [it's said as though it's meant to be a joke.] By Elua, Imri...how you've grown since I've last seen you.

[it's been barely a week.]