"Unless these are memories." His left hand lifts to drum the tips of too-black fingertips against the bottom half of his mask, visible past the yellow wrappings winding around his hand. "An impression left behind rather than an illusion, but only an afterimage rather than spirits." That hand extends forward in a small sweep, elbow braced then against his other arm as it crosses his chest. Thoughtful, throwing out the idea. "Nothing to guide, nothing to find."

His hand curls back towards himself, the curve of his index finger resting roughly where the mouth would be were one engraved in his mask.

"...Hm."