Her fingers brush his palm as she places the piece into his hand, and another crackle of energy transfers between them, enough to raise the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He just knows he has felt that before...

He closes his fingers around the amulet and then closes his eyes.

(Why can he not hear any echoes in the dark?)

His hair is the closest, and easy enough to darken to the appropriate shade. His skin tone is considerably tougher, and it takes a moment for him to picture himself with a complexion that matches hers. His body shape is acceptable - lean, muscled and does not require effort.

It is the wings that are the hardest. With his coat, they are well-hidden. Simple enough to play the part of the old man, the beggar, shuffling down the road. But bare chested as he is in this space, it is considerably more difficult to picture in his mind.

All he knows is having wings.

The image blinks, static. Wavers. He nearly grasps hold of it, shifting in the chair to lean forward slightly - and his elbow hits the denim of his jeans, and the image grows fuzzy, weaker.

"I nearly had it." He shakes his head, opens his eyes as it blinks from existence. He looks her over again then looks at himself. "Is this...all you took, from the source?"