Shy allowed her to get settled without sparing her much of a thought. She was not going to harm him so he had no reason to pay attention to where she was. She was in his space, she would behave or he would throw a fit. Not that his throwing a fit would accomplish much other than the crackle of sparks in the dark, but he liked to think it was still somehow important. He was Shy, after all.
Present? He echoed absently, blank eyes not moving from their effort of staring straight ahead at nothing until the chocolate was moved into the outer limits of his vision. Then she had his attention. Long, bony hands extended to claim the treat, they quickly unwrapped it with practiced ease. He nibbled on the corner of it, he not saying 'thank you' as was polite, but rather sent a wave of gratitude through their connection, matched with a distant look of delight on his face. Happy shy.
Anything else? You are without your consorts. The first statement would likely be seen as rude by anyone else, but Shy was often quite abrupt and to the point. He lived off of logic and reason, and to his mind, one did not visit or linger without a reason. True, very few operated off of his logic, which did wonders to explain his frustration with "organics."