He gets the sense he's said something, not wrong but also not right either. He's not so rude to openly pry though, as much as he's tempted. Instead, he offers a little distraction along the same topic. "Where I come from, armor deco runs the entire spectrum of colors. We can change it anytime we like with a good detailing, though most tend to settle on a specific theme or color scheme and that becomes their identity."

When you can be any color you choose, humanity's always on pale peach seems bland by comparison.

"Did you know my armor has an extremely high melting point? Over 3000 kelvin." He doesn't actually expect an answer as he sets his candle down and takes a match. No, actually it's just banter to act as a distraction from what Wing's about to do. What's more important than the banal statistics is the soothing cadence of his voice as he goes on.

Turning his hands slightly away, he gives M'gann a glance so she's prepared and can step back if she likes. It's a little comical, the small match pinched between two large metal fingers, his hands easily twice the size of hers, but that doesn't stop him from squeezing the matchhead between to fingers, giving them a flick the way a human would snap their fingers and watching it flare to life.