"Hm?" He tracks the direction of her gaze and pulls his hand back, frowns at it for a second, and then lowers it to his side, giving his head a little shake.
"Yes." He looks over briefly to try and catch her eye, one corner of his lips twitching up. "Sí."
Then, of course, it's back to his focused study of the lay of the land, such as it is, ahead. He's not in a hurry about seeing this place - his walk is slow, steady, the walk of a man ready to go a great deal further before he's done. No, he's in no hurry to see. But it pays to be watchful. "I'm alright. You can keep going. You're... Let's see."
He knows she's being patient with this explanation. That she has to be, that anyone from a universe like the one the Legion exists in has to be, with him. And it does grate on him, of course it grates, but there is no question that it's necessary. So he doesn't try to hide his thinking, combs through memories of his tutor's old lessons and memories of legends, stories the boy he must've once been had listened to from every mouth that would speak them. Between it all he does come up with something.
"You're possessed. Your machinery is possessed. By a ghost, or a demon who's been around a while. Some disaster touched her. But not you, that's why this's only her memory. Must've been before your time. Or after?" He raises his eyebrows, glancing toward her to try and gauge how much of the whole thing he's put together.
no subject
"Yes." He looks over briefly to try and catch her eye, one corner of his lips twitching up. "Sí."
Then, of course, it's back to his focused study of the lay of the land, such as it is, ahead. He's not in a hurry about seeing this place - his walk is slow, steady, the walk of a man ready to go a great deal further before he's done. No, he's in no hurry to see. But it pays to be watchful. "I'm alright. You can keep going. You're... Let's see."
He knows she's being patient with this explanation. That she has to be, that anyone from a universe like the one the Legion exists in has to be, with him. And it does grate on him, of course it grates, but there is no question that it's necessary. So he doesn't try to hide his thinking, combs through memories of his tutor's old lessons and memories of legends, stories the boy he must've once been had listened to from every mouth that would speak them. Between it all he does come up with something.
"You're possessed. Your machinery is possessed. By a ghost, or a demon who's been around a while. Some disaster touched her. But not you, that's why this's only her memory. Must've been before your time. Or after?" He raises his eyebrows, glancing toward her to try and gauge how much of the whole thing he's put together.