Lemm scans their writing in a flash, and gestures irritably - one hand free, the other pinching a shard of cup between the tweezers.

"I don't know! Why would I know?" He jabs the tweezered shard in their direction accusingly, like they're the one being unreasonable and not him. "I'm not in the habit of giving things away, how should I know what you'd want? It stands to reason..."

He falters, registering what their words actually imply. And he retreats a bit back into himself, suddenly feeling very awkward.

"I don't know," he repeats lamely. But he understands, now. Mostly.