Sinric comes out from the bathroom, dressed in the green silk once more. He moves to the stereo and selects a more classicaly Turkish piece he recognises. He closes his eyes and lets it soak into him before beginning to dance.

Somewhere between freeform ballet and something more primitive, he moves gracefully. The full skirt twirls with him, the split revealing flashes of pale thigh.

He moves towards Hannibal, dark eyes flashing and warm, dancing for Hannibal alone.