[Dylas, up until now, had been watching Midna mostly with disinterest or with accusatory glaring. He's been looking past her, or seeing her as a nuisance and not a person. Who would look at this floating baby and think 'person' before nuisance, anyways?

But when her hands fall to her side, he feels a pang of guilt in his stomach. He immediately berates himself for it. Why is this girl so intent on talking to him, saying so many phrases he doesn't recognize? She knows his name. She knows something.]

I'm the one who should be saying that. It isn't funny.

[He turns more to face her, his hair falling with him as he turns. His ears don't flick or twitch like they used to. His eyes are narrow, reptilian slits. It makes his face harder to read than ever before, but someone like Midna can tell his face isn't getting any softer, any more sympathetic.]

I don't know what you're talking about. If you're going to upset yourself, find someone else to talk to.