He'd wonder why anyone would want to frame a picture of him. He doesn't have what he figures anyone would consider a conventionally attractive face--it's too pale, in his mind, too tired-looking. He's not as sickly-looking as he was, but he's still not exactly the picture of robust health.

He underestimates how charming his smile is.

Gently, he moves his hand toward her, offering the joint. On closer inspection, said hand still has a bit of a ratlike look to it, narrow and delicate, with very short, blunted claws instead of nails. Pooka claws are notoriously tough, one wonders how long he spends filing them down.

"Weird? Yeah." His expression goes a bit mournful at that. "I'm still trying to figure it out--it wasn't anything like a frenzy." Context, Bruno. He puts his thoughts together a little more slowly than usual right now. "Normán, he.... Until we all changed, he was an Arachne, but he became... what was it, not a Demon... a Goblin. And this latest Fog, it got into our minds, brought out more of our Monster nature, made us more likely to frenzy, but with him it was more like another personality took over." His brows knit with confusion. "A really... evil personality. I know him--well, as well as anyone can know people, here--he's very kind and generous, a good person. What came over him at that carnival was... scarier than a lot of things in this place."

He finds he's trembling again and shakes his head as though to rattle the memory out of place.