Many have accused Skan of being unobservant and self-absorbed, not without justice, but he's not completely stupid. He knows when he's being ridiculous— that's much of the fun, after all. But Viktor's enthusiasm this evening is low, even by ordinary standards.

"...True," he allows, belatedly, flopping down at last on the cushions nearby. He sighs, still dissatisfied with the whole of it; the reception, the competition, the broken promises, and yes, even that little side-task he'd undertaken for himself, "You're preoccupied."

Of course, that would be easy to attribute to the looming, deadly moon, continuing to menace all and sundry in clear defiance of Nymion's supposed intentions... But Skan knows better. It wasn't as if he were being terribly subtle, after all, not that he'd intended to be.

"Want to talk about it?"