His head tips aside, owlish, to follow the tilt of the scales —

Not quite interest, perhaps, but attention regardless. An afterthought to comment upon the song (how often, how literally these places echo): "We'll want that direction."

Whether it intends to mislead them or not, following its wants is the surest way to divine its reasons.

"I'll go first," He offers, moves around Kit with an offered smile. It doesn't track with the rest of his face, caught and skewed crooked by lantern-light. "I won't interest it."

The boards creak beneath his feet.