Unbeknownst to him, Ciaran had a very similar opinion of the Cirque as Abraham. Since he had arrived a few days previously, he had spent every spare moment exploring his new home and finding himself surprised and astounded by how alive everything was. It had been a long time since something had caught his attention so fully that he barely had time to get wrapped up in his own thoughts; the reprieve a welcome relief to both his head and his heart. When he wasn't indulging his curiosity, he was primarily working on the Midway, which always seemed to be flooded with patrons despite the strange hours that the Cirque operated. He enjoyed the liveliness of it all, the sounds of the circus a pleasant backdrop for him as he sketched portraits of visitors for them to take away. The drawings were a memento of a happy evening to be looked upon fondly for years to come, or at least Ciaran hoped so, and so he poured his everything into each one for that very reason.
It wasn't unusual for Ciaran, a creature who was so closely linked with music due to his hypnotic voice, to hum or whistle as he worked. The lilting music of the circus dampened the sounds coming from his mouth, yet those nearby could catch snatches of it as they passed. Many were drawn to it, lingering around the siren and waiting their turn as he completed his work. The fact that he had begun to whistle such an important song to him, to them, in that moment was without intent and entirely random, though it did bring forth the same memories that Abraham experienced as he heard it. Smiling fondly as his gaze flickered between the motions of his hand on the paper and the couple who were posing for him, Ciaran allowed himself the indulgence of whistling a little louder.
A moment was all it took for everything to change.
It had been years, decades, since Ciaran had heard that voice. He replayed the memories of it so often inside of his own head that its effect ought to have faded a little, yet it still sounded as bright and alive as it had the last time he'd heard it for real. For the briefest of moments, he suspected that it was just his mind harking back to happier times, as it was so often prone to do, yet the crack in the voice, the slight waver that wasn't typically there, gave him pause as he glanced around. For several long moments, he saw nothing. It was all inside of his own head, as he had suspected. But then, he caught a flash of a familiar face, a momentary glimpse of somebody whom he thought was lost to him forever.