[Michael doesn't rush her, observing her work in silence for a few moments. Watching people go about simple—yet wholly novel to him—tasks can at times be as interesting as conversation.

It's not so weighty a question from his perspective. He's not someone who hesitates, and he knows his answer immediately.]

Will you be insulted if I say no? [He's going for it anyway. Claire doesn't seem the type.] I've never wanted to be anything other than what I am. I'd be freed of my responsibilities, but I've never wanted that either. Not even in exchange for a human sense of smell.

[Or taste. She's not putting in the effort for nothing, but he is going to need a proxy to tell him what the tea she's making tastes like.

He tilts his head at her, the slightest hint of amusement threading through his expression.]

There's a wavelength outside of your range of perception that's simultaneously black and white. If you mean the visible spectrum, blue or red.