Darlington laughs as they start down the path, heading towards the opposite corner of the park. "Noble of you."

They run in an amiable silence for a while, keeping pace with one another, adjusting speed and stride where necessary. He's almost surprised to find it so easy, after so much solitude--and most of that, self-imposed. Catching the turn of Caleb's head out of the corner of his eye, he looks over, smiling at the faint resignation he thinks he hears in the younger man's voice. "I truly don't have to," he says, a polite and entirely superficial demurral even as he's already sorting through questions in his head.

"Inborn, or acquired?" he asks after a moment, his voice still low even though they're on the move, with no other joggers close enough to overhear.