[ Altogether, he is used to it, for the disfavor from the public at large is the crux to bear for all those affiliated with the Company, regardless of their reason for why. And so, if the boy before him should be guarded, it is only to be expected—Sion certainly cannot lay blame upon another's shoulders when Leith has burned (now, for a second time, fires rising in protest of both the Company and of the Nine) and people suffer needlessly for it. But--...

That does not mean things cannot change. Accepting as he is of civilian wariness and distrust (and of worse, for Westerley where he is primarily stationed is fraught with anti-Company sentiment and violence both), by taking it onto his own two shoulders, he hopes that he might at least garner a moment to speak to someone. To anyone, be they a monk, a miner, a shopkeep, or Killjoy, because it is only through talking that the protests, insurrection, and all the terrible things wrought by the Company might come to a peaceful end.

Achieving understanding is key, and that is why Sion cants his head to the side with a gentle smile, a knowing glance. ]

I do not need to eat as often as others do. [ There is no lie in the statement, but for all that the Director is candid about the fact, he cares not to elaborate upon it, instead continuing on: ] What's more... I will be given new rations tomorrow when I return to the command post.

So please, take it, it would set my mind at ease.

[ Here, his eyes crinkle at their corners with a measure of fondness— ]

My elder sister was once of the Monastery, and I am happy to help where I can.