In that, at least, they are alike (same tenacity, different channel, as the bird-child had put it), both creatures more of instinct than forethought. In him, it's that unguarded intensity whenever something succeeds in rousing him from torpor; where she has learned to hold her tongue, he has never needed or particularly wanted to censor his.

“You assume I am privy to anything they may or may not think.” It's amusement, rather than frustration, in his tone; Himeka might well get the impression that no matter how tedious he finds everything else, not being in charge of anything is, for the moment at least, a welcome novelty.