[ A pause. Such a fraction of a thing, weighed against the speed of their conversation - the highs and lows that such a thing could take on, within seconds. He seems to weigh her words with sharp eyes, as his pulls deeper and deeper into a frown, a grimace, a snarl. When he speaks, his words are weighted: ]
"Nothing" put you here.
[ Nuances aren't exactly lost on him, but he dislikes roundabout conversation, it seems. ]
no subject
"Nothing" put you here.
[ Nuances aren't exactly lost on him, but he dislikes roundabout conversation, it seems. ]
Tch, some mentor you're meant to be, then.