[Happy and dry, Axew does a little dance, pitter-pattering on the counter after the towel's off. The smells of a spicy fusion of medicinal herbs wafts in after the bath. Wonder where that's from?
Cilan, hope you don't mind two heavily-dressed arms tying around your waist out of nowhere (unless you already figured it out by the scent, of course), in almost comically over-sized and over-dressed, puffy winter clothes. Because that's just what the recently returned Iris does— the hug is aimed low, because she's wilting (over)dramatically on the floor behind him, most likely under the impression she's on the verge of death; kindly disabuse her of the notion once you get over the shock.]
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Cilan, hope you don't mind two heavily-dressed arms tying around your waist out of nowhere (unless you already figured it out by the scent, of course), in almost comically over-sized and over-dressed, puffy winter clothes. Because that's just what the recently returned Iris does— the hug is aimed low, because she's wilting (over)dramatically on the floor behind him, most likely under the impression she's on the verge of death; kindly disabuse her of the notion once you get over the shock.]