[ Jack's expression twists up in displeasure, but oddly, he doesn't really say anything. For half a moment, he considers telling Hawke about his dream, because maybe, just maybe, he can trust her with it. But before he can even open his mouth, he remembers why he's wearing this mask at all. The feeling of his scar on his face is all the more prominent for a moment as he thinks about it, so he shakes his head with a dismissive wave of his hand. ]

Oh, whatever, you're not ever gonna get it. Hell, it's not even really "for" you anyways.

[ Which is honest enough, because Jack knows it wouldn't appeal to people like Hawke anyways. He huffs out a noise of irritation, but at least relaxes as he crosses his arms. ]

...And it's only kinda a mask. Like, it's my face. Does it count if it's of my face?