"I am aware of that." Always, she has to insist she can walk places. When speed matters, or danger, that sort of pride should give way to expedience. Mortals have, as a species, poor battle doctrine. Someone should remedy that one day. "And I know," he'll just cut this one off at the pass as well, "that you can take care of yourself."

Clothes were a nuisance anyway, unless they provided environmental resistance or protection. And the dresses she wore did neither. Really someone was going to have to get Lydia some proper armor at some point.

He was making a list of these obvious needed improvements in mortals as she slid in, until she made that soft sound. ...well, that got his attention.

"Are you all right?" Because his gaze might have changed, fixing on her, pupils dilating.