Matias pouted slightly, letting out a soft "hmmmph".

"Looks like we have–" he glanced at Midnight for a second. "–an insomnia problem. Lord help all of you if I ever catch it, because I like my sleep."

His eyes rolled, and his nails tapped against the counter in a arrhythmic fashion. No one asked him to, but he got off his seat almost as quickly as he got on it.

"Anyway... that's alright. Thanks. Iris isn't [i]still [/i]on that crap, is she?"