As interesting as it may have been to get a closer look at the (rather boring) life of a fayth for a few days, Seymour was quite glad to have his own body back. Besides who knew what his mother would have done had she stayed much longer in his body. Unsent he may be, but that hardly granted him a total immunity to any sort of stress or damage. It just meant that he was less likely to die from it - and coming back from the mostly-dead wasn't exactly the most enjoyable of experiences.

But he was back in his own body now, and he had never been so glad to feel the air or see the pseudo-sun before. And it looked like he wasn't the only taking advantage of the day either, if that canvas set up nearby was any indication.

"An artist?" he asked, as soon as he drew close enough to be heard.