Raven's been doing a good enough job of hiding that there haven't been any stories of blue-skinned women, or at least none that Erik have heard. So when he's walking past the building she's hiding behind, it's not because he's looking for her. He's just going about the course of his daily routine.

Not that it's apparent at first who he is. Bearded (although he does at least keep it trimmed; he hasn't become that uncivilized), wearing jeans and a flannel shirt that has definitely seen better days, and with upper arms that are thicker after so many months of chopping firewood, it's apparent that he's been here awhile. The backpack he was given when he arrived here is slung over his shoulder.

If someone were to ask why he suddenly looks in her direction, the best answer he'd have is that it must have been instinct. But he does, and there she is.

"Raven?"