Athos draws his eyebrows together, offering a dry smile in reply to the girl’s colorful greeting. She could not be more different from Tris - there is something of Allison about her, in fact - but he, of all people, should know how easily people of opposing temperaments might be drawn to one another. He is glad that someone thought to celebrate Tris, for he fears she is too modest to celebrate herself.

Handshakes still do not come easily to him, and he grasps the girl’s hand a beat too late, finishing with a small half-bow. “Athos,” he offers. “Tris is a neighbor."