Diversion. Distractions. His words intend to take me away from the answer that I wanted, an answer that has nothing to do with an encounter from months ago. But his anger is familiar, and it would be in my best interest not to step where it will only ensnare me further, though I feel the hold of it around my ankle already, anchoring me in place. Blind. He is blinded right now by an anger I've done nothing to solve— nothing that's lasted; I wouldn't know how— and somehow, I feel that anything I say will only make it worse.

"You have an entire city," I point out, voice even and elbows still resting on my knees, although my stance proves to be anything but relaxed. "I don't plan on chasing you through it. I only asked if you were coming."