Aria had never been one to stay cooped up for very long. The very idea of being confined within her trailer had been deeply disquieting; how many years had she been bound in such a way, kept within four walls with only her own captor for company? No, she would never subject herself to captivity again, willingly or otherwise, and so had volunteered to offer her aid at the healing station. Not that she was particularly proficient in the art of restoration, but she figured at the very least she could make quick rounds of the cirque to help guide anyone who needed aid back to Rose's stand. This was exactly what she was doing when she caught sight of him, moving with that unnatural grace, a trail of glowing embers in his wake.
She had not seen him like that in so many years that she had paused, hovering above the tent line, invisible but not undetectable, close enough to watch and observe but far enough away as not to intrude.
It was only when he turned towards her trailer that she dropped down some distance behind him; she did not bother with her human form tonight, and when she materialized she was iridescent in shades of palest violet and silver, her lithe body nude save for soft feathering that shimmered, opalescent and sparse, to offer her the barest of concealment. Longer feathers also cascaded from her crown in an oil-slick shimmer, billowing and graceful in the night breeze, and her wings brushed the ground behind her heels. The power that radiated from him, the cracked burning of his flesh... she had longed to see hints of the Djinn since she'd arrived, some remnants of the creature that had been her friend and confidante. She should have been pleased. But there was a wrongness about him, something that gave her pause and caused her heart to lurch unexpectedly.
This, she knew, was not right. This was not liberation, but... something else.
She said nothing at first, unsure of how he would receive her after their last encounter, but sent a pointed breeze in his direction to alert him of her presence. A bellow to open flame, she observed the way the fissures in his skin burned brighter with the gentle caress of the swirling updraft before she withdrew it, and in a soft, careful voice, called his name.