It's an impossible sight to miss, and it doesn't take long for Ilda to have a captive audience. X lies flopped on the grass next to the tree and stares, utterly bewitched. He's never seen a dance like this one before. He's never seen clothes like this before. His eyes are wide and unblinking, and his feet in the air behind him tap against each other in time to her arms flapping. It's an uncertain rhythm, because X can't really tell what the rhythm is, but it's no less enthusiastic for it.

He's recognisable as X, though perhaps not right away. His skin colour and long hair are a giveaway more than his facial features.