Arthur comes out to the turtle's head quite a bit, to reflect and to keep Asti company, hoping at least the presence of a friendly mind helps him to feel a little better. He's out there tonight, the breeze ruffling his hair and long Atlantean-style open shirt, his beard trimmed short. Sometimes there's another person up here, so he doesn't pay her much attention, at least until he catches a glimpse of her face, and blue eyes go wide with recognition.

"Diana?"