His hand clasps his own wrist, feeling the tick of the golden wristwatch he always wears. It's one of two things on his person that actually exists, that isn't a part of this strange voidmatter he's become. Thinking, as the seconds tick by and remind him time goes on. Whatever helps and causes no one else any trouble is good.

His hands jerk into motion after a short awkward silence, a little less steady. That gives away his mood more than his bland expression. [Bodiless. Outside time, outside space. Countless timelines. I was limited to what happens below our mountain, at least, but--far too much information to filter through easily. Believe me, the two of you were not the focus of my attention.]