Rather than poking his own food in response, Autor pokes the man.

"What happened?" he asks, gently jabbing him in the arm with the fork tines. "All the fire has gone out of you."

Autor doesn't know quite why Rabastan has gone comatose, but he has a theory. And like all his theories, he wishes to test it immediately.

He flicks a glance over to Elea, the unwitting catalyst to all of this. "You're very forward, aren't you? One hour ago you didn't know my name or anything about me, and now you're trying to get us to absolve each other of grievances which you have no understanding of, and get us to profess friendship, besides!" he huffs. Then he folds his arms, slouching. "If you're not aware of the fact that I'll bring more trouble to him than I'm worth, then I don't know what to do with you."

Not like he had an idea in the first place.