When the sun comes out and warms the very air one breathes, Bagoas likes to go for walks despite the chill. He can feel the changes in weather keenly, being accustomed to much hotter climes, and knows from watching other people, bracelets or none, that he has a tendency to bundle up.

No matter. The sun is out, dancing on the water below, there's a clement breeze tickling his hair across his face no matter how many times he tucks the errant curls behind his ear. His earrings, which are a new acquisition from the market some days past, jingle softly in the wind.

It is a small comfort, but one he clings to; to feel more like himself again can never be a bad thing.