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[the_bloodless]

For a while now, Kvothe has been fifteen again. The change was drastic. Even after the magic there was something easier about him, there was still light in his eye and the lines of his face were barely visible, making him look as young as he is. As he enters his room, though, his eyes fall upon the lute that still leans against the side of the

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[myrddin_wyllt]

Not the Wizard of Oz, no, but he is there none the less, when he makes it to the Hut, thoughtful as he sits by a fire, nursing a mug of strong Assam tea.

When the song of the forest changes for the new presence, he does not stir, lost in thought and meditation. In his young skin though he may be, his hands are still carrying the bruises of his encounter with the Dark Lord, though healing they may be, and his mind is still heavy with the consequences.

[the_bloodless]

Kvothe frowns slightly as he approaches, he can tell that something is wrong but not quite what. He stops a short distance away from the fire, making his last few steps louder to make sure that Merlin is aware of his presence before he calls quietly. "Merlin?"

Merlin might be surprised when he looks up at sees Kvothe, ten years older as he is, and looking older than that.

[myrddin_wyllt]

He does - because the psychic scent is familiar to him, but...

"Kvothe? What happened to you, my b..., lad?"

He's smiling, though. Here's at least someone who doesn't despise him, or have any remonstrances to send his way, silent or otherwise.

[the_bloodless]

There's a slightly amused smile at still being called 'lad.' "I seem to be making a habit of stumbling across the strangest things here," he says ruefully. "This is how I'm supposed to be. I just wanted to thank you for humoring an overeager boy." There's a slight sadness to him at this age that never quite goes away, he's lost some of the enthusiasm that he had when he was young.

He moves closer, hands in his pockets. "You look like you've had a hard few days."