It’s not the scars, it’s— [ How does he explain nerve damage to someone from a circa-medieval world and only three months of remembered experience? His hand closes, fingers furling shut again and drifting down to his side. ] Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.
[ A beat, as Strange considers the edges of that weighty sentence. ] —Why were you striking glass?
no subject
[ A beat, as Strange considers the edges of that weighty sentence. ] —Why were you striking glass?