( He contributes by tugging open one drawer, then another, then another in search of cutlery. It makes for a more convenient place to put his eyes, so he doesn't find himself scrutinizing the subtle details too closely. )

I don't... need an empathy bond — to acutely understand what somebody's feeling. Part of what makes me good at my job is...

( Silverware secured, he straightens again and faces her — eye contact is still a little too much to stretch for. )

I have an- empathy disorder.

( There's a touch of self mockery in there, or perhaps mockery at the term. Both, probably. )

To be completely honest, I'm not sure what adding in an actual supernatural bond into that would do.

( He's afraid more than he's every really been afraid before, that he might get wholly lost. )