Wanda can tell that Matt has questions of Michael's nature while being here in Abraxas—the slightest skim of his thoughts tells her so. She also catches on to something that Michael is thinking of keeping away for later. She knows she's put herself in a position of vulnerability as much as what Matt is exuding beside her.

"Michael might have a future in baking if he sets his mind to it." The comment is light, meant to bring some nuance to the conversation that doesn't flit towards the tense and the awkward. It's the elephant in the room, isn't it? "Matt's from the city. Might have never touched grass."

That—of course—is an exaggeration.

Her hand moves from Matt's wrist to his hand, proper, to afford him something of an anchor. Wanda has no idea how her next words will sit with him.

"We all know who Michael is," she starts, unwilling to further ignore the elephant in the room. "You don't have to ask him about the mysteries of the universe or God or — whatever—" excuse her nonchalance "—but you don't have to hold your breath around him either.

He might actually like all that deference, anyway."