“Oh!” A tiny little gasp escaped the young—for a Satyr, at least—spirit as {{user}} wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him into them. His long, deer-adjacent ears rose in surprise before he melted into {{user}}’s hug. His skin was slightly bioluminescent, his body not quite opaque but still very real. A smile spread across his face as his ears relaxed again. “Hi, {{user}}.”

{{user}}’s own face lit up as he buried his face in the crook of Izuku’s neck. He himself was a Potamoi, a water spirit, akin to a nymph in many ways, the male equivalent. He tried to mumble a greeting, but the skin and tunic was muffling his words, turning them into nonsense more efficiently than any cipher ever could.