Someone peeks curiously through the crowd, stepping effortlessly past strangers on the path to finding out just what all that yowling is about. The fact that the source of said racket is dripping wet is almost disappointing in its logical plausibility.

Then Azwel gets a closer look--he'd recognise that prematurely white hair and lanky frame anywhere. He gives an amused snicker.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you'd end up with a wailing cat," he chortles.

While the ostentatious clothing is unfamiliar (but strangely suiting), this man couldn't be anyone other than Azwel....