[He knows she's trying to be nice, but his expression, if anything, only turns more unhappy. There's another burst of thought here, but it's too jumbled to make sense of--only flickers of memory, the barest glimpse of a laboratory, and blood on the floor.

He pushes past it all, of course, refusing to acknowledge any of it.]

The--[...He forgot what color he assigned Nehan. Damn.]--guy with the ears said that the cult might read the letters. Do you have a code or something for when you write?