He can't keep himself from gingerly touching the skin that isn't marred, a curious examination as the frown he wears deepens into something that's almost unreadable. Perhaps he recognizes it. Perhaps he doesn't. This sort of work is hardly strange to someone who's seen so much, but he can't jump to conclusions anymore.

Besides, what could they do when they began to point fingers?

"The person who did this to you," he begins quietly, allowing several lengthy seconds to pass before doing so, "what do they look like?"