[ Camille hums, the sound equally amused and thoughtful. He laces his fingers together around one knee. He is not quite the same; much of his life - and unlife - like a bird in a cage, permitted occasionally to perch just outside. But his life the last few years has been freedom like a predator without competition. He could do anything at home, but here— ]

Perhaps even more difficult to bottle in this place, [ he muses, pale gaze flickering over Midnight. He smile is sympathetic. ] But one might make efforts towards that goal, at least. [ Familiarity could be managed the same way, to an extent, but perhaps it required time more so than effort. ]