Ereuvir isn't concerned about it for himself, but the pause makes him consider Ashley again. He seemed to thrive on such an idea, but Ereuvir wonders if it's not a bit of a curse, to be so exquisite on the outside that it becomes what defines you to other people, to the point where even someone who cares more about you than about their own life has to pause for a moment to decide if they want to see you if your beauty has dimmed.

"I ask because I am... not a good judge of such things," Ereuvir admits, "there is much that I think is beautiful that I have been told alarms people. A life well lived can show as exquisitely on a person's face or in a person's scars as it can be expressed in perfect form and function. You clawed your way out of Hell and that has leant you beauty, as has the desperate sort of look you get whenever your touch that box," he gestures, the first time he's even so much as looked at it, "Your brother seems lovely enough to me, still. But I do not know how you will find him."