['I ought to bill you for the damages,' passes through Javert's head quite neatly when Amanda barges in, and in excellent form, as he hoped. He anticipated she might wish to speak in the flesh sooner rather than later, and set a watch to her interruption, seated upon a desk and idly drumming his claws. It took ten minutes. He had guessed around seven; off by three. He looks up from his watch--Amanda would recognize the craftsmanship as belonging to Aunamee, a gift he received from their mutual acquaintance years ago--and tidily snaps it shut.

Javert allows himself a moment to eyeball her up and down with an approving nod. He, too, is wearing his Fog mantle, but his was fashioned into an iron gray frock coat rather than a cape. Quite neat of Madame to provide him with a cloak to his taste.

He cuts straight to the meat, simple and abrupt.]

There was a war in Felfri last autumn, which Elias used to siphon Her out to his false city. The Fog has thinned upon this peninsula ever since, from what I've gathered. I spent an unanticipated leave in the Sea of Stars for a hefty portion of the time after that mess.

[His mouth thins darkly, fangs driving into the skin of his bottom lip.]

I am about as pleased about this fact as you are.