Rarely does Ellis's examination feel quite so much like a thumb on a scale. She is aware of the urge to squirm under it, and how ridiculous they must seem—him barefoot and roused forcibly out of bed, and her with her face all drawn on. The effect of Mister Stark's beautifully made arm must be considerably diminished under these circumstances.

"Nonsense. It's hardly qualifies as that. And even if it did, it would only be fair."

Rather than meet his eye, she lets her attention flickers back in the direction of the doorway where Ruadh lays. Look at that silly dog with his great block head, the distance of a few meters sufficient to reduce his scars to little more than funny stripes in the half lit corridor.

"I only don't wish to disappoint you, is all," is sunny and bright as she looks back to Ellis. All cheer behind that grey makeup! "Or to misrepresent the thing in question, obviously. It has nothing to do with not wanting to do as you like. Particularly given how committed you've become to being so dreadfully serious."