[ He shifts slightly to face her, taking in the full weight of her expression, the way she's standing. He's not a total boar--he can see her quandary. And not unexpectedly. This curse has forced her into a position she'd rather not have been in. It isn't the fact that her body was rendered out of her own control - although the lack of control was a part of it - it was what it represented, and with whom, that had carved a knife into her gut. She felt as though her ability to separate Captain from Woman was something balanced perilously enough already - he had known that much back when he was still able to know things - and here that separation had been taken from her, yanked away like the metaphorical rug.

No wonder she looked like someone had just kicked her puppy. He looked away again. ]

You're welcome to stay with me if you find your own situation too frosty. Don't flatter yourself. The quiet is unsettling. You'd be doing me a favor.