[And her hand goes back to-- and tightens around-- the top of the stairwell rail, more so to steady herself than in any sort of anger. Perhaps predictably, she's stuck looking at his eyes, nearly unblinking.

Why would he be...?

"We are not closer to gods," she wants to say, because such an assertion reminds her too much of men in white coats with their rose crosses shining in the slightest wink of light, saying to her that Exorcists are very special and chosen by God, and she feels she knows better than most of those men that Exorcists are not at all divine.

But instead, what slips out is a soft:] Has that changed anything?