Chris' smile flashes wider in an instant at the recognition. Hawke back on the heels of Festival leaving is doing something to catching feelin in his throat, but he doesn't care to think on it right now. He can take good news at face value for once.

Hawke's hands fall familiar on his shoulders and Chris' hands settle on the mage's sides, the callouses on his fingers tracking on the subtle bumps of ribs. 'Sight for sore eyes' had never had much meaning before.

Hawke's words cause his smile to falter, however. "Ah...been a tad bit more than a few months, handsome. It's been well over a year since you left...almost eight months since I got back."