[Isaac stumbles to a stop, bristling - but just as his authority no longer has the weight to bend Hector to his whim, Isaac himself defies what sounds less like a suggestion and more like an order. He won't sit, much less after what it took to stand. But he is compelled to turn himself around, reluctantly, leaning up against the wall. Despite the healing still running its course at an accelerated rate, he can feel a sharp pulling in his chest as his breathing sharpens, deepens.

He shows his teeth.]

Since when have we fused at the hip?

[It's a question he's answered before, his mouth twisting from a scowl to a grim, knowing smile, briefly. But the real question is not when but why, when Isaac has done nothing to reward Hector's persistence or the attention Isaac thought he had always wanted. The attention he had killed for.

He tosses a hand helplessly, letting it slap to his side.]

What is it you want from me? [Frustration leaks into his voice.] ...A pat on the back for your noble efforts to tame the savage beast? My flesh, having claimed yours?