[It's appreciated- there's a lot of it. The hair tie was lost somewhere, yet she finds no desire to disentangle to go searching through sheets or on the floor. Instead she listens- like she'd listened in the Vakdir prison to his tales of Valhalla, like she'd listened to the tales he told the beggar children of the lower levels as she half-halfheartedly pried them off her human legs.

Hayame was trying- in her own way. To listen. To learn. Thinks perhaps she will take the ring off, because surely she could listen all the better without the itch of the unnatural, but she hesitates again.

Almost asks, "the hammer?", but at the last moment recalls the unreadable look upon his face that she had seen, in that room on that ship... and saves it. Perhaps for later.]

... I suppose not. It is beyond me either way.

[She can... admit that, even if it's said with a bit of a frown, staring momentarily at her own hand to compare it to his.]

There is a woman now, on the team... she lost her arms in some battle and now has replacements of metal. Just not like yours.

[Perhaps an attempt to explain, but... perhaps fishing. Watching his face, to judge how far she will go.]