He'll see what he's always seen: a tall, wiry boy, filled out but with a natural awkwardness that no amount of physical grace and strength can completely cover. He shifts his feet under Gilbert's gaze, shrugs. He sits beside him in the snow, having nothing better to do either.

He thinks he can feel the body heat radiating off him, in contrast to the snow. Maybe that's his power.

"I didn't get much in the way of religious education. Just the prayers they'd make us say in the army. I suppose my soul wasn't considered worth making a big fuss over."

That's one of the strange things about Liir. He'll be more self-deprecating with people who he knows very little, who (like Gilbert) mock him, than his few friends.