Semyon remained quiet for the moment, listening first to Nestor's... philosophical side, then to the seemingly confused werewolf between them. They were supposed to have known already? Atticus hadn't said anything about that, the Wight was sure he would have caught the word 'Ragnarok' otherwise. Isis hadn't mentioned anything, but then her -and Tamarind's- task hadn't been in line with the one Hoyle had given Atticus. Perhaps Hoyle had been hoping to avoid causing undue distress in his employees?

Personally, Semyon would have preferred to have known from the start. But he was a soldier, not the head of an organization. He wasn't in a place to judge -or really question- Hoyle's judgment.

He could still wonder to himself though. That was a right everyone held... Like wondering why a cigar was being passed to him.

The Wight regarded the cigars gently smoking form, held cautiously in the werewolf's grasp. He wasn't even sure he had smoked something like that when he lived, and now she wanted him to take it? It was rude to refuse, certainly, but confusion made him pause maybe a moment too long. After all, it had recently been offered to her from Nestor. What tradition was she following, to pass it along?

"...Thank you." He opted to take it gingerly from her gasp, setting it to rest lightly between his teeth, smoke still trailing out at a stately pace. There was no one to pass it onto after him so far, so- wait, Tamarind was approaching? Ah, he could follow the Werewolf's tradition, then. 

"Ahead of it's time? More reason to stop it then." The cigar's tip flared briefly as Semyon experimented at inhaling, his voice seemingly unobstructed despite it all. "There's much to do in the world. I-... We can't have it stopping now."

Drawing the cigar from his mouth -smoke still swirling inside, escaping his lips little at a time- Semyon held it out for Tamarind to take. A subtle glance with pale eyes to check the other werewolf would not notice, and he offered their new arrival a small shrug. Given the look Tamarind had on her face, she seemed to know nothing more about this tradition than he did. But passing it along would delay any offense, at least. And surely someone who was actually alive and breathing would appreciate the cigar more than he. So many smoked such things, they had to have some attraction, yes?

Semyon almost shrugged a second time, before reminding himself it wasn't necessary when thinking. Back to standing still and listening, then, though perhaps with more than a cigar to greet Tamarind.

"Did you hear of this, Tamarind?" His gaze turned to fix upon her entirely, for now. "Ragnarok? We have a heavy task before us."