"Cultivator." He doesn't really understand, yet, that the word means so little in this world. He would have been recognized on sight for what and who he was, back home.

He watched her during her explanation, before his eyes lowered slowly. How had she been able to read that on him so easily? Most barely could read him at all. He was used to being misunderstood that way. Was his grief so poignant that he was leaking it out in all directions? He carefully tried to retrain his expression to the impassive he usually managed..

"They are not here," He agreed in a low murmur. Of course he missed them. But one did not speak to such feelings.

Instead, he reached out to take the chocolate offered, carefully pulling his sleeve back so he would not dirty it, as he turned it over in his hands. Strange...

"Idols? Or Mockery?"