She gives him a scrutinizing look—one that runs far deeper than the surface. It is intimate and invasive, yet somehow not. Perhaps it has to do with how her soul reaches out to inspect his ever-so-gently; a warm, featherlight touch against his, like the brush of her hand against his cheek.

"Older than a century, but less than three. Scarcely more than a babe..." Hemera glances at his face again, then can't help but give his jaw a quick, playful stroke with the tips of her fingers. "...And yet look at this little beard on you!"