[Koby is misrepresenting himself (as per usual), with how he speaks of his own abilities – he’s much more sensitive and perceptive than he’s given credit for, and the gleaming golden aura emanating from Matt is visible as a candle in a snowstorm. Despite the somewhat solemn topic, there’s a fond little smile on his cindersmudged face as he takes in the glow. Koby’s own presence isn’t nearly as finessed as some – no catlike claw pinpricks or careful sorting through of memories here – but it’s there, like a blush-colored sunrise.]

I might’ve. I’m very stubborn, you know. [He’s also down to the last pieces of paper, tossing them and the file folder into the flames, then stretching out his hands to warm them, always a little chilly in this unaccustomed climate.] Shanks would help you too, you know – if you asked. He might even give you a straight answer, who knows. [An exasperated, but deeply, deeply fond eyeroll.

Then, turning to look at Matt, hands still outstretched, gaze intent, unflinching, Koby considers this last comment for a long, long moment. Finally:] So it won’t hurt you? Helping me? It’ll be – it’s what you want?