Wake up, show up, land on a bench halfway through a cup of tea. There's really no reassuring answer she can offer him in the affirmative, and she doesn't want to give him false hope by suggesting it won't happen.

Hey, maybe he'll get lucky. Maybe the Rift will decide not to mess with him, after all. Hell if she's going to float that theory, though.

Back to talking shop, then. That's probably wise. "We don't choose them," she says, intrigued by the thought. Wouldn't that be convenient. "It's a born-with-it kind of thing. Anyway, mine is sunlight, which... basically just means I do my best work when I can sit in the sunshine." We'll leave counter-affinities for another time. He doesn't need to know about all the vampire stuff; it's not like any of it pertains to him. "It, uh... it also means that if I do stuff after dark, it can get a bit... weird. Which is why my knife glows, now: transmuted it after dark."