Once again, she doesn't really believe him. Her question wasn't meant to be answered honestly, only a gateway into talking about his outburst against the Head Peacekeeper. She gives him a moment of reprieve from any questioning when he offers her a smoke and she accepts.

Smoking isn't a hobby that she readily picks up, but there's something to be said for the companionship that it induces in people. So she takes a small puff, blowing it out slowly in the cold winter air. It's hard to tell the difference between the smoke and her own breath, but it makes a visually pleasant stream in the air. She hands the cigarette back to him again.

"Thanks." She crosses one leg over the other, leaning back against the bench and staring up at the clear blue of the winter sky. "...I saw the broadcast. I thought you were really brave." She doesn't say things like that often. Absently, she wonders if he realizes how much of a compliment that is from her.

"Don't get me wrong. I get why he was punishing the guy, but torture is an ugly weapon. It's not something that anyone wants to see. I'm glad that someone had the guts to speak up, even if he was too wrapped up in himself to listen." Her opinion of Head Peacekeeper Quintus Falxvale isn't exactly the highest, but she knows how to toe the line--at least in her own opinion. It's not rebellious to point out that someone was acting out a personal matter in a public venue. Half the city is probably thinking it right now.

"If you need a place to crash for a while, our door is open. I figured I should return the favor for all the times I've crashed at your place."