Wysteria cuts a glance in his direction, something there on the tip of her tongue that she puts on reserve as she instead moves to fetch the snake from the planter bed. Like a well trained dog, the reptile answers Wysteria's simple command of 'Come here,' by bending back over itself. It slithers up into her hand and coils about the wrist.

With the snake transferred from the planter into her lap, she finds the thought still pressing despite how inconsiderate it is. Can't have a mysterious past without some hard limits lying around,' Mr. Stark had said of their mutual friend, but she has found more poked holes than barriers.

None of it's to do with you, suggests—

"But there is something. Troubling you."