While Anora grappled with Darsby's words, and immediately upon her looking away from him, he'd have lowered his arm back to its previous position upon denim-coated knee. He now resumed facing the Earth in its entirety from that ramshackle rooftop, less afraid of its shadows than he was of his own. That personal darkness crawled as a now living prison to insights awaiting rediscovery.

An ancient sensation was brewing within him, something youthful and simplistic. 'Innocence' had been one of the first words to come to mind, but it didn't belong to Anora by its origin, so from where had it come? Something colorful, perhaps even childlike had brewed it's unwholesome brew within him. Though, he somehow thought that he was wrong in aiming to be afraid or disgusted. These conflicts spawned further cascades of troubled self-reflection.

Had Anora looked back into Darsby's eyes before he began responding she'd, for a moment, be tossed back into that drowning current of emotions which consumes the soul on it's most profound levels. Images and sensations poured as plentiful, raging rivers of violent waters over her innermost facet. A parent, lovingly gazing at their child among others before picking them up at daycare, finding themselves suddenly troubled that this infantile human may take after one or more of their parents worse habits. A child staring into a marble, genuinely captivated by its spherical shape and inner-artwork, not letting a single detail escape his sharp young eyes. Someone not above the age of eight, innocent in their desire to leap into the smallest pond reflecting warm rays of morning sunlight before them. An old man troubled to discover he's lived his entire life without being so young as he could have been in spirit all along. A niece sick with the flu, vomiting into a bucket near you whilst you gently rub their shuddering back. Darsby's eyes become a spiritual and near-physical location where all of these things are made simultaneously true yet not at the same time. It's as if the human mind were grappling with some form of communication ardent in it's comparison to typical speech. 

In his contemplation, Darsby had noted, but overlooked, the double-wide question presented. Anora is young; her heated heart must be troubled at the moment; despite her earlier words. He could smell it in her sweat, he could hear it in her heartbeat, he could taste it in the breeze surrounding them. She was stressed, and he kicked himself mentally for not noticing all the way up until this moment. [i]'How tired have I actually gotten..?'[/i] He questioned internally.

"I'm..-" He started, his mouth wrestling with itself to not immediately apologize as it had somehow intended to do. He quickly regained composure, though his words were still mildly painted in sprays of apologetic verbality and anxiously hurried speech. "-Well, you'd be-" Darsby paused again, his hands wrapping around the back of his head lacing fingers into wild tufts of hair to wrestle these sentiments from existence with no victory in sight. "-You would occasionally have to undergo a mapping spell that relies on small sums of blood to point us in their direction. Aside from that, I'll take some time to talk to you about that energy you so freely toss about. You're a bit off in how you're using it." It wouldn't, by tone, sound as if the mapping spell was what he felt apologetic or anxious about. Perhaps his outward conflict is outside of Anora herself. 

Darsby sighed, without breath or air, into space before him.  The engines fueling his lungs lay their calculated uses aside to express a troubled heart. Those hands remained, gently holding an organic head whilst it's inner-workings fold harshly upon one another. 

----------------------

Half a mile away from Anora and Darsby an old car warped its polished exterior into existence. This teleportation was soundless and unnoticeable, shiny outer surfaces having been delicately hidden beneath a tree. 

"Remember, don't set one foot outside this car without 'all three steps'." Hoarse, masculine vocals split the air between two stressed employees.
"I wouldn't dare." Came the overly-accentuated feminine response, sass, and disrespect blatantly clear by all accounts. 

The man sighed as he stepped from an ebony vehicle, his body fading from sight under the guise of an invisibility spell. He knew better than to give into that vile woman's banter.