and then the thinnest tendril of scent drifted into his senses, drawn by the thrust and throb of the lungs that would refused to bow to the whim of his desperate mind. The bloodied madman did not yet turn, for it was foremost in his thoughts that this was yet another vision, one that would leave within the moment. And yet it did not, and his chest expanded with another breath, and here it was, stronger, the fragrance of earth and myrrh that had always clung to her, even in youth.
Lecter heard first her voice, soft, yet with the command that heralded her existence as a powerful walker of the spirit world; then his mind plucked out the words, and he at last turned to look upon her.
She was as the pale man recalled, and yet she was so much more, the girl newly become woman. Ferocity burned with eternal fire in the flame-wild set of her eyes; she was slim and blessed with a corded height that belied the sure strength of her being, porcelain but for the jet kiss upon her toes. And yet he saw in her that which he remembered from their time together as mentor and pupil: an undying devotion to the Loa and the souls that walked the earth with abandon.
Unable to find the words with which to answer, Lecter found himself moving with dreamlike slowness into the circle of her presence, gait unevened by the wound that rode in the flesh of his shoulder, though it was all but forgotten in this moment. The breath that fueled his body was rife with her perfume, and it was only through sheer force of will that the madman halted before her.
Jinx, he murmured, tasting the simple weighted syllable and all its memories of home for a moment, before his jaw tightened and he was forced to look away from her. Sos has forsaken me. It was not an answer, but it was all he had to give, to offer her by way of a response. At length, the cold water of his gaze lapped back to find her own, but it would be a feat for the glimmering fire of her eyes to cut through the saddened glaciers.