Staring at her for several moments, obviously 'listening' to discover whether she meant it or not, Mantis at last offered a delicate nod. "I forget about food," he conceded lightly, bare white shoulders lifting and falling again in a shrug. Everything tended to taste of ash, and on his better days, he knew it was entirely psychological. Between that and the constant stress and nausea from his abilities, he rarely managed to keep anything substantial down.
He hesitated, then made a slight gesture toward the exit of the alley--a tacit agreement to follow where she lead.
"I have---no way to pay you," he warned after a moment, voice hoarse. I have nothing here.