[ Safer. As much as he wants to doubt the sentiment, it's hard to challenge this kind of honesty. He can feel that she means it, that it's all simple, curious intent. It's off putting, if only because it makes it difficult to be properly annoyed.

Mat's gaze drifts back to the symbol for a moment, taking in the details at scale. There's nothing reassuring in that symbol. The weight of the medallion is reassuring, though; like the weight of a shield on your arm. It's the difference between something tangible and superstition. ]

Burn you. [ He says it without much hostility, petty and quiet. ] You have no city, and you talk to— [ A brief pause, grasping for alien words. ] Machines. And you're in my head, which would make anyone bloody anxious.

[ So yes, basically. ]