His question went unanswered, instead diverted into something else. He watched Skylar sink ever so slightly at his query, as if something was burdening her that was -- or had been for a while -- unsaid. Jefferson recognized that look, as he himself stood in the same position more often than not, and knew that she had things to admit even before she seated herself against the tree and gazed up at him with the same big, pleading puppy eyes he'd forgotten she'd had. "Can we talk about stuff?" "...Sure, kid," he shrugged, stepping closer and lowering down beside her.
She continued to speak, and as she did so, the one-eyed brute preoccupied himself with finding a small twig in the dirt and placing it between his jowls, chewing on the small branch idly as he was commonly seen doing in warmer months. "Your father's a good man, Sky. He loves you." A pause. "...Buuut, I can I keep a secret." Jefferson was a leader, a monster, and a newly-found father, but rarely a confidante. He wasn't complaining, of course. The cyclops idly untied the sling of his arm due to the discomfort of the knot against his shoulder and gnashed his teeth together and lightly cringed in pain as he guided his stiff, scarred arm to his side to rest. The twig between his teeth promptly snapped in half at the impact, and he glanced at her quickly to encourage her stories before looking to replace it.