Ned, too, wrinkles his nose. Rotted is a very bad sign. But he takes note of what she said about enhanced senses; it is the sort of thing one wants to know about a housemate. He's going to be extra sure to make as little noise as possible at night so that he doesn't wake her up, now. No reason to penalize other people when he has insomnia.

Interesting, too, that she says a human's as if she thinks of herself as something else. It makes sense, though, particularly after what she'd told him about other shifters living separate of humans, about how they had their own culture and traditions.

He makes a vague sympathetic sound when she talks about not being able to call or visit her family. "It's not really comparable. You're completely cut off, here." Ned pauses in the process of spreading jam on his bread, looking up at Riley and asking plainly, "How are you doing with that? Missing your family, I mean." He's not sure why he asks. It's not like he'll be able to do anything to make it less horrible for her. Still, he feels the need to express his concern, to acknowledge that it can't be easy. She's one of the youngest people he's met here, and she'd still been living with them when she'd been taken...