Eames smiles at Reynard, usually happy to see him, reaches out to put a hand on his hip to draw him close.

That changes when he hears the questions, glances back at the person he'd been talking to; purple skin that shimmers in the light and an ethereal grace as they move, a beauty he'd be remiss to ignore. They smile when he catches their eye and Eames smiles back before looking back to Reynard. He can tell there's about to be a problem, but he can't tell what or why, and shrugs a shoulder.

"Potentially," he says, "that remains to be seen."