Her head turns to look at him as soon as he's inside and her expression softens. It's strange to think that he is almost identical to the man that she had known for so long, to think that he hadn't changed in his features even as his spirit had developed. He's lived so long and with so much pain that it makes her ache to comfort him, ignoring the wounds in her own chest as she moves forward.

Standing, she smiles softly; she doesn't dare offer a hug of welcome or anything of the sort. Instead, she just nods at the chair opposite her, moving to turn over the two cups and start to pour.

"Come and sit down. I got us some toast and some crumpets, or something like it, and we might even be able to beg a few muffins once we're done, as a treat."

Pretend everything is normal. That's the best thing to do.