Azrael would be noticeable soon enough, though he was tucked into a corner himself--his lips on the back of a young woman's hand, though she flitted away as he lifted his eyes to the approaching gentleman. Though he wore a deep red mask, his blue eyes were telltale enough; his dark brown hair the same, though it hung in a loose ponytail, much longer than before. His own expression seemed one of almost shock as he caught sight of Artemis--though he shook that expression as he approached.

"Artemis," he began, his level of comfort with the fey noticeably improved. He craned his head slightly to one side as he reached out toward him, behaving only as though he'd been here naturally and since its very beginning.