"Wine and chocolate sounds nice," Abigail says, wistfully. She can't see what could be bad about wanting wine and chocolate. So long as she didn't give herself a hangover or make herself sick, Bela should be fine.

Abigail appreciates the deft way Bela invites her to talk about what she might be craving, if she wants to, without interrogating her, either. She's far more used to interactions where people try to pulls uncomfortable truths from her like teeth; it is one thing to give in to badgering, and another thing entirely to offer up information on her own terms.

She gives another one of her little shrugs, says honestly, "I'm not even sure I even know what it is I want." Abigail understands that some part of what's happening to her is making her more talkative about things that is usual, but the knowledge isn't very useful. She's gotten a little better at at least veiling her truths, though. So instead of some more explicit confession, all she says is, "Except to change stuff that can't be changed, anyway, so what's the point of it, anyway?"

That last part turns petulant, and she comes beside Bela, resting her back against the wall, too, a foot or two away.

"Do you think it's always wrong to want to hurt someone? No matter what?"