"We'll talk later?" he calls after her as he watches her go and wonders if he'd pushed too far. Her face hadn't said so, but that doesn't always mean anything. Pushing people away is something he's far more talented at than he'd like, and knowing when to stop is something he's not good at in the least. It can make for a messy combination.

People are starting to look at him instead of the dancers, and he half-smiles, half-grimaces as he gets up. There's no reason to risk someone suddenly recognizing him and shouting his name. That's how mobs start. And so he heads out himself, head full of worries and a teeny, tiny bit of hope that what he said reached Teren.