He was quiet as he listened to them speak. If he was bothered by what she said she had seen, he doesn't really show it; he doesn't really show much, in all honesty, except for that slight smile of his. It was a mask that kept people from knowing who he was really was, afraid that they might see it, and then he'd be alone again.<br/><br/>Their was something wrong, now that he thought about it. Their had been something different about this last hallucination of his. Maybe their was something to it? His mind cranked away, churning out ideas.<br/><br/>"Maybe their's still chemicals in the air at the dorms from when they were cleaning it. Inhaling that kind of stuff might be making us hallucinate." He would finally say, admitting, indirectly, that he, too, had seen things.  But, he decides, they won't ever know just how long that problem's been going on, nor would he inform them of his particular cause for suffering them.<br/><br/>