Jessamyn's heart raced as she stared at the misty figure before her, barely daring to hope. The scent of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her.
She clutched the fur coat closer to her chest, seeking comfort in its warmth as she stood transfixed.
The figure hovered, ethereal and faint, yet undeniably familiar. Her breath caught in her throat as she whispered, "Joar? Is that... is that you?"
For a moment, silence enveloped them, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Jessamyn strained to see clearer, to make out the features she knew so well, yearning for confirmation that this wasn't a trick of her grief-stricken mind.
The misty form wavered, as if uncertain, then slowly began to take shape. Features she had memorized — the curve of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the familiar warmth in his eyes — gradually emerged from the haze.
