Irian does hear the faint hiss of the holodeck doors opening, and her first instinct is to end the program immediately; whatever ridiculous sense of nostalgia has come over her, she really didn't intend for it to be shown to anyone else.

But she doesn't. She waits, watching the glint of the sunrise on the river and the distant towers of the city rising out of the early morning light, until she's aware of a presence just behind her. Finally she turns her head to glance back over her shoulder, appraising the person standing there — a human man, as far as she can tell, though... well. He wouldn't be the first person she's gotten that feeling from, the sense of being more than meets the eye.

Irian is usually fairly good at getting a read on people, after the manner of someone trained to sense deception or detect certain reactions she could exploit. Yet it's hard for her to tell what this man may be thinking for feeling; his expression gives nothing away except, perhaps, an appreciation for the landscape spread out in front of him.

She turns away from him again, standing up; when she finally speaks, though she doesn't turn back to face him, it's clear she's addressing him. "It is quite the view," she says softly, "is it not?"