[ He finally moves away from that window the moment he sees her heading for the exit, anticipating her arrival with a predictably uncomfortable focus. She steps outside. Passes over the cloak. Smiles.

He takes it, expression unreturned. ]

We'll see how resilient it is. The design is my preference, but it might wear on me quickly. [ How can he accurately judge his own moods any longer? It's impossible with this transformation... impossible... ]

And now I'll uphold my end of the bargain. What is it you want to see or know?