[ Matt is typically not the sharpest social bulb in the radish patch. But something--or rather, an entire constellation of somethings--convinces him that Set is not seeing the same spectrum that he is, at the moment. He was just talking about the similarities between love and war. So Set's seat atop him, the gleam in his eyes and coil of his smile ... it's not that they don't mean anything. But Matt doesn't imagine for a moment that they're a green light. ]

Ah-- [ Fumbling, visibly. ] Okay ... well. A lot of what I do when I reach out to a god or a spirit is just ... kind of gratitude, for keeping the wheel of existence turning. For contributing to the world around me. So--

[ Matt tilts his head back to regard Set's face a little bit better. The motion exposes the line of his throat, a not-that-unconscious gesture of submission. He exhales. ]

Thank you. For raising my pulse. I feel very, ah ... alive, right now. And it wouldn't be possible without you.