Those shoulders dropped slightly in a sigh that otherwise had no means to be expelled. Celty turned slightly as though to look back at him, not that she needed to to see him. She pointedly tucked her towel into itself so she could pick up the helmet sitting there. The mists swirling from her neck seemed to flow with less intensity than a moment ago, almost dejectedly.

She looked at the visor of her helmet, slightly fogging from the remnant heat wicking off of her hands; she'd endured a cold shower and let the hot water run as an impromptu sauna to offset the chill once she was done bathing. A finger traced out letters on the visor's surface, with only a brief false start as she'd started out with lines for kanji.

I don't know. I haven't found it.

Whether it really was what Tony wanted to ask or not, that was the answer, but at least it didn't sting as much as it used to, to admit it.