He blinks. "Me, personally? Ah... sometimes, if someone wants a vision and they're here really late." A soft, self-effacing laugh follows that. "I don't get a lot of social calls, if that's what you mean." His gaze moves away as his hand rubs the back of his neck--a slew of physical cues that this man just... isn't as popular as the rest of his family, for whatever reason.

"But, I mean, if you wanna talk a while, I can do that." He moves to the door and closes it before wavering in an indecision. He doesn't want to appear too standoffish and remain near the door, but he doesn't want to get all up in this stranger's business by sitting next to him on the bed and there aren't any chairs and... oh well. He sits on the bed, a small distance away from Kronid, just at arm's length. "Are you feeling any better?"

He finds himself leaning a little nearer to him, that sound wicking into his subconscious and drawing him in.