Felix watches the warmth seep out of York, how cold he turns. Alright. So there's something here, he thinks. Roots already laid, something like loyalty or affection or whatever the fuck York thinks he's gotten himself with Locus.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," he replies softly, head cocking slightly. "...which makes me wonder why you picked him up regardless of that fact. Mercy? That's a lot of coin for someone who's just working on keeping things running."

The burnt hawk, meanwhile, had shifted his attention to Maine, silently gauging something behind that blown black eye.