Shit. But now wasn't the time for placating - someone needed to control the situation. "Flying things," he said, walking past Brant. "When they come in to land - they light. Well, at least birds, bats, insects. What do you know about time streams interacting with each other?" He pulled the drapes apart with a finger, peeking outside. Maybe turning his back on him wasn't the best idea, but at least he was skirting a confrontation. When he turned around to face him again, he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.