Swiftcurrent Creek will you be a satanist with me?

Arric's expression subtly changes; pondering, then anger, and back to thoughtfulness; and Wren notices. His shoulders tense, his gaze just that little bit more gravid with something that spoke of contempt. 
I'll talk to him about it, she gives a nod. I just, y'know. Wanted your thoughts on it too. And she was also stalling. Little had she spoken to the Mayfair since the talk of Germanicus — among other things — and admittedly, she had been avoiding him. Whether it was for good reason or not, she didn't know; but it didn't matter right now, did it?
A thick silence fills the air, and she shifts her bouncing leg in order to tuck it beneath her. And then, with her own curiousity; Is somethin' wrong, dude? You seem a little, she gestures, one paw feebly outstretched to him. I don't know, sad.