His answering single nod is the only sign that he agrees to her request, and whether she's truly honored or not... he is. Social interactions are not easy for him but he's tired, a little defeated by circumstance. His time at home was difficult on so many levels, but it was his. It was real; that's his reality and it's where he knows how to be.

Here, just moving about with any sense of grace at all is a challenge. There are a few people who make it easier and Maya Antares... may prove to be one of them but then again, she may not. He's only met her the one time.

"Frustrated with the place or not, there's little I can do about it. Anger would seem to be futile and so... I wait. It's what I can do." And during the wait he repents, tries to make up as best he can for sins either real or perceived. Studies the place and its visitors; learns the lay of the land; gathers information because information is what helps people survive. When he puts it this way in his mind it seems so dreary, but were it described to him in those same terms, he would beg to differ. There are always little details, little testaments to important things, and one gathers insight by gathering information.

With the clawed index finger on his left hand, he draws an idle design in the sand, then sets the shard of worn glass in the center of it as if it's surrounded by the walls of a fortress.