"Flattery. I like it," Warren mused the obvious, since Betsy was going to get obvious herself with all the compliments. "I suppose it's only fair to mention how beautiful you are, in return." He'd say something about how he enjoyed her accent, but he imagined no one liked to hear that they actually one one in another person's mind. To her, he was the one with the accent.
Warren's eyebrows raised as Betsy continued recounting that night. She had shot a gun? Wow. This girl was something else. "Ah, yes. I imagine siblings could grate on your nerves after awhile." Warren crossed his leg, one toe tapping idly. "Yes. There are plenty of psychic mentors to choose from here. I can't believe you haven't chosen one yet. With your new-found powers, Ms. Grey and her telekinesis may be a safe bet. Of course, you could never go wrong with Charles Xavier."
"No, honestly. I'm quite fine," Warren smiled, once again forgetting that Betsy wouldn't fall for that automatic reflex to disarm her. While he wasn't in peak physical condition, he would get by and didn't expect any permanent damage even if he never got around to seeing Josh Foley. He'd continue to be stubborn on the subject, not wishing to cause Betsy worry.