Hakkai had been willing to brush aside the questions Avalon had been throwing at him on his return: after all, they had been hurtful, but it had seemed more like a clumsy curiosity than malice.

And none of it had been anything more than he'd said to himself a thousand times over. The wounds had been almost mortal; the scars were thick.

But Avalon has been stalking him for days now, their cool gaze on him raising the hairs on the back of his neck. They haven't approached yet.

He's out of patience.

He knocks sharply on Avalon's door, face a neutral mask.