[Tig's jaw tightens at the explanation of why, fingers clenching around the armrests again, as if he's got any right to feel protective. He knows it's stupid, it doesn't stop the response. He's silent for a long moment, like he really has to think about it, but eventually he nods. Only slight, like he's trying to arrange it with an internal monologue, but it's still there. Still certain.]

Sure. Honestly, though, I slept through most of the first couple days. Just...couldn't really find the energy to do much else, everything wore me out and it didn't help that I felt like I'd been run over by a train. Twice.

[He hesitates, unsure if it's really his place, but he has to ask. Has to.]

Who did it?