He sees the tears shining bright and unshed in her eyes and he wonders how much is compassion to his own plight and how much is remembering her time in her own Hell. "Me too...lot more died with me, too. My death wasn't a murder, it was bloody genocide." He tries not to think about it much, but the number of other vampires that were tied to his sire line died pointlessly for the gain of a pair of teenagers, and it's something he knows the Gilberts will never answer for. It enrages him far more than it upsets him, and that's seen easily enough by the way his fingers ball into a fist behind him in the grass.

His attention whips over toward her again, bewildered by the number she'd given him. "Bloody hell, Wonderland's a fucking paradise after that, innit?" He's curious how it happened, was it the same every time, and a number of other far too personally invasive questions that weren't necessary to have the answer to.