["Reticent" is such a nice word for you to use, Balthier.

His chair creaks as he adjusts enough to place his elbows on the table, leaning forward with some consideration. As much as it feels like pulling teeth to wrench a proper conversation free from him, he does listen. And listen well.

The last bit has him huffing out a scoff, wry and sharp-edged.]

A gilded cage. While we wait for the monster to rear its ugly head.

[Alternatively: the quiet before the storm. It sets him ill at ease, all of it.]

Any idea of what this "something" may be? You've not had this happen to you before?