For a few seconds, Krok remains silent, puzzled, looking at Kagerou folded up neatly on the floor like that when there are perfectly good seats. Maybe it's just a thing he does?

"I've… been ill," Krok explains haltingly, not sure how else to describe his condition the last few months. An illness of the brain module, certainly. "But I'm recovering. Please," he adds, patting the sofa beside him, "sit with me? How've you been?" Because stalling for more time to put together his thoughts is something he's unaccustomed to needing. Krok normally thinks on his feet – so to speak – much more easily.

Normally, he isn't recovering from medical stasis.