It was less a self-conscious action in asking the question but one that took control of something that lingered in the air. His preference for layers came long before any of the scars. The larger scars were reminders of moments of betrayal; Jack Crawford to him and him to Hannibal. In the end, the non-lethal gutting had been brought on by his own desire to outwit and repay something he thought needed to be avenged.
His brows raised as a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "I hide a lot of things. No more than anyone else here. And thinking that night was a hallucination caused my instinctive covering when I saw you." He explained. Will was sure she did not require an explanation but if he could stop people from attempting to figure him out at the root, all the better.
"Not physically. The scarring allows a strange sort of numbness." Will led her to behind the hotel where the garden shed that Tandy showed him sat covered in foilage as if they attempted to hide the fishing equipment within it. He looked over at her in a dark amusement, the shadows of the setting sun darkening the curls of his hair but bringing light into his blue eyes. "Do your scars bother you?"