"He is a painter." And Mab wasn't wrong about him being sensitive he supposed. "He leaked, Mab. I didn't think we were supposed to do that." It was remembering those tears, the way that Ash had sobbed into his chest as he held him that haunted Rook the most when he considered whether this was a good idea or not. He wanted to chase that sadness away and get an actual smile out of the Toreador.
Rook met Mab's amused look with one of curiosity. "A few. If they're not enough I can also pluck out more. It's not as if I can't make them grow right back." The benefits of being Kindred. "Why? What are you thinking?"