He ignores the skin-crawling sensation that almost feels familiar, but it can't be. Chalks it up to the near-constant itch pushing him towards the Horizon.

Did anyone not hear about That Incident?

Unlikely.

It does mean that this is definitely someone from Thorne. He doubts news of his temporary incarceration traveled outside of the faction.

"Apparently!" he crows. Makes a face, tone turning to mockery, and a stage whisper, "I think they needed that all-hands-on-deck vibe going strong. I bet even if I got my hands on the little weasel's neck they still would've let me out the next day."

He glances up from his work, does a double take as his focus solidifies with eye contact, frowns, and then almost recoils. Oh. Oh. That is certainly not the Horizon Itch.