Aerith sits herself down at Terra's table out-of-turn, waving the man who was supposed to join her off to the next table with a smile and then turning to the other girl. "I love your dress," she starts, because it's such a pretty dress. "You look a little overwhelmed right now, though. You're having fun, right?"

She's been dead three years, but her forwardness hasn't been blunted too much.