The hand only lightly brushes his arm, then, slowly dropping until it rests at her side.

With no intentions of leaving any time soon (or until she is called away once more), Sigyn makes herself as comfortable as she could on the floor, shifting her weight so she no longer sits on her feet. She tilts her body slightly, in hopes of catching his lowered gaze, hands folded over her lap, pressing down the light, bronze-flecked fabric of her dress.

"I have missed you," she says honestly. But then again, she always does.