Aye. It's fodder for the map for sure. [The beginnings of mapping out the trouble in the Down and finding a way to squeeze a place for them both into it. Then, a thoughtful beat.] Pins?

[So she's been to the Arena. Good. When their impressions of the city line up, it makes it easier to build an accurate picture of what they're dealing with. He's already planning on visiting the place when the inevitable need for the release of a fight comes for him. To her impression, Aloïs only nods.

But the rest of what she has for him starts a pulse of indignation stirring in his chest. Nothing she's saying about Chris is wrong, but it doesn't line up with his own lingering suspicions. The vague and unnameable refusal to accept something that feels like a cosmic trick.]

There's no tale here I haven't already told. [There's a grimace in his voice. He wouldn't lie to her. Especially about something like this.]

But things like this --red skies on the eve of a job, three ravens all on a bough together-- they're ill signs. [Signs that, he's sure, have paid off well for him when he's been wary of them.] Someone's fucking with me.