Edward closed the box and nodded, blowing smoke to the side to keep most of it away from her. He raised a brow, however, when she stammered through a reply. “Loud?” he asked, a slight frown of confusion as he thought about what she meant. “May I ask what you mean? What’s loud up—ohhh.” He laughed, scratching his head. “[i]I don’t think I’ll ever fathom what’s going on with those two. And if I try to pry, she might lop off all my hair. I quite like my hair.[/i]” Before he answered her question, he held up a finger and got up, returning with a tankard of the spiced wine, setting it down in front of her. 

“[i]Yes. Always. Only a fool would not be anxious before a battle,[/i]” he said, sitting back down across from her. “[i]Or perhaps I am simply good at pretending to have it all together, while everybody else has confidence in spades. I can be calm, yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about my odds.[/i]” He leaned back with a huff. “[i]It’s funny. I thought of nothing else but how I would get myself back into the fray while in Lithilote. Now I’m back in the fray, and I want nothing more than just to lay down and rest.[/i]”