[He is not a mind reader, he cannot see the memories and images which bring with them the twist of guilt that Wade is now associating with him. He only has half the story, perhaps not even half, and it is not a story that he understands. It's a story written in an ancient language of another world, telling tales of deeds and people he cannot imagine.

His brow furrows. There is concern and confusion, mostly confusion, written plain across his face when Wade stands up.]

Perhaps then you are right, perhaps we should endeavour to spend as little time in company with one another as possible. I don't want to be responsible for any feeling that accompanies eating sushi that is no longer fit for human consumption.