Gwen had since decided to sit on a bench, using the little machine she'd been given, marvelling at its abilities and--and waiting. For her son. For her husband. They were here. She hadn't expected that, but she hadn't expected to arrive in this place at all. It seemed Laharl would arrive first, and she wasn't sure how she was going to go about this. After so much time watching him from afar, after watching him grow and change and leaving without causing him more pain, it seemed here they would meet, as mother and son, once more.

When she spotted him, his hair standing out well against the crowds, she was struck by the urge to go running to him. But no, she would wait for him. She watched, though, smiling and trying to see if her son had changed any more since he had been here--he said it had been some time, and while it hadn't seemed all that long to her, perhaps it had taken her a while to arrive in Paixao, however she had gotten there.