Cerulean Cape don't leave me drowning in your Sunday rain

Her kulning catches his attention.  The seconds pass in slow-motion as the Steltrona bounds towards his fine featured once-companion, and as each beat passes she becomes aware of something new.

one, the way his scent has shifted, matured like aged spirits.  she can smell family, she can smell children.

two, there are scars that carve the marble of his flesh that had not been there before.  

three, he is exactly as she remembers him; he is nothing like she remembers him.

Still, a broad smile sits comfortably on her inkstained lips as she falls into his startled embrace.  Étoille.  She touches her nose to the hollow of his throat before she pulls from him, greengold gaze lingering upon his face.