[ He doesn't even know how he feels about that. Just. He's leaning forward still, elbows resting just above his knees, and staring at the drink he's just poured for a little while. Actually, no, he's going to drink that too, it wasn't that big, and he'll pour another one but this one he's just going to look at.

His posture is apologetic, despite this. He shouldn't be so transparent, not in front of her, in front of one of his callsigns, in front of anyone. He's Alpha. He's the face of too much to have such ridiculous problems as a probably-dead-ex-wife.

And he's fully aware he hasn't actually answered her yet - that his actions are probably an answer enough in and of itself, but still. He picks up his glass and sits back like he had been before. Mostly. If he looks a little more defeated then it's not really something he's up for fixing at the moment, Alpha be damned. ] I don't know. [ He sighs, because this reaction couldn't possibly be more theatrical anyway and he wasn't even trying. He's not theatrical by nature in the least. ] Do what you want. If she is alive, it would be better for us to know. [ Think of it strategically. Divide and progress. ] She's potentially too dangerous to leave otherwise.