I give as warm of a welcome as a Nuit is capable in winter. A frigid smile, teeth locked grimly to forestall chattering. Cold, clammy arms, eager to hug, adorned in a jacket glistening with a coating of frost, untouched by anything resembling body heat. Breath reminiscent of the grave. Eyes brimming with the inability to forget memories of long-dead loved ones, a pain hoped not to be repeated. Hands like claws of ice, semi-translucent for lack of blood-enriched flesh. A spirit bereft of human warmth, but eager to delude itself otherwise. But with a few more points in hypnosis, I could probably convince you that you were glad to meet me.
Indeed, welcome...