[It's not watching Serph's shift head-on. Now that the helmet is off, it seems to have returned to its previous aversion for turning to face whoever it's talking to, instead monitoring Serph's balling up out of the corner of its eye.
When he's more or less settled himself into a defensible spot with his pile of snake body and cocooned with his wings, it sits down against the wall a meter away, out of touching distance but close enough to be within the 'sitting with' radius. It shoves up its sleeves, dragging newly taloned hands over the place where its gun ports are, testing the interference there with morbid fascination, its attention shying away from the mottled coloring every so often.]
The - magic. [That's not a question, Murderbot.] That's a thing?
no subject
When he's more or less settled himself into a defensible spot with his pile of snake body and cocooned with his wings, it sits down against the wall a meter away, out of touching distance but close enough to be within the 'sitting with' radius. It shoves up its sleeves, dragging newly taloned hands over the place where its gun ports are, testing the interference there with morbid fascination, its attention shying away from the mottled coloring every so often.]
The - magic. [That's not a question, Murderbot.] That's a thing?