At Falgar's robotic, unfeeling response and Virgil's emotional, vivid one, the Patriarch shifted his gaze between the two several times, reading their underlying emotions, reading what hadn't been said. Little more could be derived from such observations; Falgar looked weary, pained and upset while Virgil seemed to be possessed with concern of some sort, but Jefferson chose not to believe anything that lay before his eyes.
His head dipped, eye glowing fiercely at the newcomer. "I will allow it, then," he said, tone promptly turning into a horrific hiss. "But I warn you, Virgil. You double-cross me and I will rip your ears from your skull. Don't fuck with my Valley members."
His stare persisted a moment longer, then the male turned and started his hobble away. "Falgar, come. You two can meet on your own terms, but you will not do it now." He called over his shoulder. "You're a Loas, Virgil. Get to work."
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