[He's twirled his dagger up to an angle, and is admiring the little ruby-colored rock bit in the handle when she calls out to him. The voice is so familiar, but he hasn't seen her in six months, so he immediately drops the handle into his palm securely and spins it so the blade is safely against the inside of his forearm, pivoting toward the sound of her jog.]
[And sure enough-- there she is. His face lights up and he spins the dagger again, slipping it into its temporary leather sheath and hooking it onto his back belt loop.] Sumire! [He absolutely does not run to make up the remaining distance between them, but it's maybe an excited little canter. As she frowns at his flour-coated state, he takes a small half-step backward, raising his hands in apologetic surrender.] Flour, by the windmill. Shenanigans. [He wants to scoop her up off the ground and spin her but he is covered in flour and this cannot be.]
BABY!! GIRL!!!!!!!
[And sure enough-- there she is. His face lights up and he spins the dagger again, slipping it into its temporary leather sheath and hooking it onto his back belt loop.] Sumire! [He absolutely does not run to make up the remaining distance between them, but it's maybe an excited little canter. As she frowns at his flour-coated state, he takes a small half-step backward, raising his hands in apologetic surrender.] Flour, by the windmill. Shenanigans. [He wants to scoop her up off the ground and spin her but he is covered in flour and this cannot be.]