Karkat just glares at her little dots, mouth below set in a sharp downturn. He looks like someone who's just been cheated, and he pretty much feels like it. What does she even mean, was hers? Either she's Porrim or she's not, and she's hardly explaining what she's on about.

"Which two? And what's true? Accept what? You're not making one singular spittle-fleck of sense, and the vaunted heights of a lick are being kept behind the fangy bars of comprehension's tight-lipped mouth."

He looks her over again, eyes scouring as if they'll somehow find an answer tucked into the draping of her dress. It doesn't work, of course.