[The way she looks at him is frustrating. He takes his frustration and shreds it in his teeth, silently and without moving, rips the bones from it and breaks them into dust. He is angry. He is so, so angry. But it doesn't control him. It doesn't. It doesn't.]

[It doesn't.]

[On the outside, a slight downturn of his mouth.]

I was referring to better in the sense of better for the Fog. I misunderstood. Sorry.

[He misunderstood Maya. He knew she had been here a long time, knew she was tired. But he never imagined she'd fall for such blatant lies. The Fog wants her children to be their truest selves. The Fog takes her children and breaks their bones and force-feeds them human flesh by the fistful for her own petty, ancient reasons. And Maya is content to side with this for the sake of power and safety.]

[He truly doesn't understand. At this point, all he wants is to leave this place without a fight. This is her space that he stumbled into, and he has no desire to make it uncomfortable, but this is too much.]

In any case, I've trespassed too long. I'll get out of your hair, Maya. Unless you need anything in particular?