Wolfgang's head jerks up, and they cover his hands with theirs. The Legos drop.
“No, Michael, you did not scare me. You never scare me.”
He has startled them quite frequently, but they've never once felt fear around him. Even before they knew they were anything but ordinary, they weren't afraid of what he could do, only surprised and curious.
“This — I... did not want you to see me like this. With, with my, ehm — with my tools.”
Tools, toys, it's the same thing, for them. It's not just the bricks, which would be easy to explain away, it's an obvious and convenient method of construction readily available at any department store — there are also small figures laying on the green mat with the half-finished structures; minifigs, a few small, battered action figures, some green army men. There are long white ribbons laid out neatly to the side, glowing faintly and so thin they look almost transparent.
Wolfgang's face is still pinkish, he can see that clearly in the dark, though Wolfgang can see much less.