Maybe he'd frightened her. It's a thought that flickers unbidden at the edge of his fingertips, a brief punctuating mark of pleasure and ego that's dismissed as quickly as rises. Unlikely.

He raises his chin a little, but otherwise doesn't sit up out of what constitutes as Byerly's shadow. The question he wants to ask, he bites back and the smoke curls out of him on exhale as if whatever he's holding there on his tongue is starting to char.

"It suits me better."