She takes a breath at his reply, even and quiet, and its exhalation carries the heaviness of a sigh. Surely he knows that his tone and wording betrayed him even while he voiced them. "I have heard that sentiment more times than even I can count," she says, though there's no reprimand in her voice, only weariness. It wasn't too long ago that Topher reminded her what violence and savagery any human might stoop to, even those in her high regards, so she doesn't have the heart to be surprised this time.

"Very well then," she settles on, clasping her hands behind her back and not seeking his gaze any longer. "Keep it to yourself. I must simply assume you did something regrettably human." She could look, of course, see it in his mind, but what would be the point, and does she really want to know? Not even pilots are without fault, and human ones even less so. The Unicorn merely stares down at Arista out of dark old eyes, unfathomable.