And that will likely be my next question so do brace yourself for that.

[The sharpness of the nails against his back is dulled by the layers of fabric and leather, but he recognizes the movement when he feels it; the curling of fingers. His own fingers dance along the cheeks of the mask and come to rest by the ears, gently touching the string holding it in place.]

Ah, but where are my manners, 'tis your turn again, is it not?