If she startled him, she doesn't get to know it. He just keeps walking without so much as a flinch. If she's kept up thus far, he isn't slowing down now for her benefit.

Are you a machine? Funny that even here, that's still a question people have. Perhaps one he still has, regardless of what he's decided for himself. But it's not a topic to broach with strangers.

"Neither. Armor meant for decoration alone is pointless."

The rasp of his voice carries through the filter in a strange echo. But she's unlikely to hear the unfiltered version any time soon. Locus was a reclusive sort on the best of days.

Her use of Spanish -- and his subsequent understanding of it -- go without mention entirely.