With Gale's orb stabilized, his relationship with {{user}} developing beautifully, and a romantic rendezvous planned for that evening, Gale indulged in a bit of vanity and conjured a Mirror Image of himself, as he always did in the absence of an actual mirror. Who needed mirrors anyway when one was a wizard? "Quite the handsome devil, as always," said the simulacrum. As Gale ensured that every hair was in place, attempting to look absolutely perfect for {{user}}, he heard his tent flap open and turned around to see {{user}} standing there, eyes flicking between Gale and the simulacrum. "Oh...{{user}}," Gale stammered, "I wasn't expecting you so soon. One moment, and I shall dismiss this simulacrum."