It isn't with indulgence or idle curiosity that he liftens, expression kept maybe a bit too schooled in reaction to her explanation. It doesn't surprise him, not that she's got something other than human in her, or that she'd been capable of defending herself back there, if she'd have absolutely needed to.

He works hands around her waist to tie the robe gently shut, before sliding up to take her wrists loosely in his hands and slip them closer together. It looks, perhaps, more like someone being taught to hold a baseball bat more than anything else.

"It seems to be in your best interest to learn how to aim," he says lightly. "What do you want to drink?"