Phalanx has forgotten the hand that Robin is holding, so it can remain captive for as long as the other wants. Phalanx forgets a lot of things in the face of that question. There's a pause while they look down at how the fabric drapes over the bend of their own knees, and the echo slowly builds again.

It's a stuttering, hard-to-grasp feeling, where the shape of other creatures' energies tend to be easier to fathom. It's as if each of Phalanx's thoughts have their own form, and Robin can feel the ripples of them all bumping together as they rattle through the creature's head.

Phalanx's face is lowered, half-shaded by the hood, but there isn't much there to read anyway.

"You're not a monster...?" Asked the exact same way--as an expectant statement.