One thing all the musicians shared (or any man that made real music his living--because there was a difference) was the inability to turn it off. The world had a lot of new sounds within it, but each of them played a key component in how a composer heard the world. Mozart tended to bobble up and down the streets with a tune in his head while tipping his head to greet the stranger or homeless man in the alley. He skipped as if he were on clouds or still wearing this high heeled shoes that were fashionable in his day.
At first he didn't hear Haydn, his world being played out through violins and horns. It was that tingling sensation that brought that symphony to a halt. He turned on his heel, looking over his shoulder to see a much younger face to the man he knew once. With a giddy smile he leapt from his spot to tackle Haydn in a hug. "Papa!" He exclaimed in that old familiarity.