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They usually met in the library for studying. Therefore, when Temperance had texted him to ask if they could talk, it had seemed like a decent place to meet. There was a corner in the back of the first floor where there were some seats and a table, where they wouldn't be likely to be interrupted.

He had a book open, but he wasn't really paying attention to it. This was probably going to be about the bizarre experience they'd had, he thought, and he was trying to marshal his thoughts about the whole thing. It still seemed very unreal, dreamlike and strange.

"Hey," Jordan answered, and put the book down, letting it flip closed. Temperance looked tired and stressed, he thought. That wasn't too unexpected, maybe. "I'm ... mostly okay," he answered after a moment's thought. "It all seems so surreal that it almost feels like a dream. I mean, I know it wasn't, but it still feels that way.." He half-shrugged, gave her a sideways look. "How about you?"

"Well ... yeah." Jordan crossed his arms on the table and looked sideways at Temperance. "Have you been to see her?" He hesitated a moment, then said, "There's people who aren't happy with it, I don't doubt. But something occurred to me while I was trying to sleep a couple of days ago." He took a breath, kept his voice low. "The cats told us that humans were invited to prevent a murder, right? We couldn't stop the tithe, and it might not have been possible to stop the tithe, but we did prevent a murder. Was it ever stated that we were supposed to stop the tithe? Maybe we ended up doing what we were supposed to do after all." He shook his head a little. "I could be full of it, but it was a thought I had."

"You haven't had a chance to talk to her yet?" he asked.

Conjecture probably translated to bullshit, all things considered, but he'd wanted to share the idea. "I'm not sure I believe myself, but I'd like to," he admitted. "You had to prioritize," he added after a quiet moment. "You did what you could." He wasn't a medical professional. He knew basic first aid, and he had some layman's anatomical knowledge. But with the type of injury and the amount of blood that Adoelle had lost, he didn't think she could have been saved. He wasn't a squeamish person, as a rule, but the memory of the tithe still made him feel sick, and he knew he'd never forget it.

It was something of a relief to turn his attention to something else, rather than the uncertainty and the horror of the memories of the end of that night. "I don't think it makes you a coward," he said. "Just, you know, a person. It'll get harder to do if you leave it longer, though." He half-smiled. "I'd go with sorry, I didn't mean to confuse you," he offered.

"I probably could." Jordan shifted uneasily. He wasn't sure he wanted to, but he did want to know how she was recovering. He didn't know what he would say to her, what he wanted to ask. It wasn't like he'd been essential in the rescue; Temperance had done the first aid, and Connor had carried Melany out of the manor. Jordan had been there mostly by association, peripheral to the rescue itself. "Yeah, I remember," he said to the question, but quieted when Temperance shook her head. If she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to try to pry it out of her.

"You're making some big assumptions there," he pointed out. "Why do you think she'd hate you?"

Jordan didn't push further on the subject of Blackfriars. If Temperance felt like telling him later, she would. Given what they'd been talking about, it was probably an unpleasant memory as well.

Some creepy worm thing - "For a favor?" he asked. It wasn't the best thing to have done, obviously, and he could only imagine what he'd have assumed, given a similar situation. There were potential layers of hurt there, the shock of a careful confession treated so lightly and a sense of being used and put on display. "I think you should at least try to apologize," he said, keeping his tone gentle in spite of his disapproval. It sounded like Temperance was already beating herself up over it, and he thought that it was entirely possible that snapping at her would flip guilt into defensive defiance.

"Yeah, that's really the only way. I mean, it's not a texting kind of situation," Jordan said, a little dryly. "No offense taken," he assured her. His own friendships sometimes tended towards the superficial. He wasn't really in a habit of letting people get very close, for one reason or another; he liked people, but he often kept them at arm's length. Temperance seemed to be likewise standoffish, which suited him fine.

"You must like her a lot," he commented, curious.

"Well, yeah, that's acceptable use of texts." Jordan nodded. "Just, you know. Not a big conversation over them. Basic texting etiquette, right?"

"But?" he inquired, curiously. "I mean, I wasn't saying."