[There's the slightest smile on his face, one that barely moves his lips but is visible in the creasing of his eyes. At her scoff, he smirks a little more.]

It's amazing what's locked away in our memories.

[He reflects on what he's seen, but doesn't address it yet; he's distracted by the borrowed memory of the noises those creatures made. Now that's something straight out of Hell.

But, also, he's curious.]

I have a question for you.

Who was it you never got to meet, that you were hoping to catch a glimpse of? A father, maybe?