[ Pudding's - not actually used to being asked gently to come down from one of her anger spikes. ]

[ She's also not used to being praised by a voice that isn't the very cartoon caricature of scheming and conniving. (And she notices the little slide into something with an accent, with natural inflection.) ]

[ So she blinks, and at the suggestion, pulls in a deep breath. Okay, yeah, she'd been encroaching on rant-headache from not stopping often enough to catch her breath. ]

...Thank you.

[ ...She actually feels kind of sheepish, glances away and rubs the back of her neck. People here, even the couple she's learning to know and trust, aren't used to this side of her. And Soldat of all people, especially, with the way he'd closed off when she'd gotten actually angry with him during all her panic on the stairs... ]

Sorry. I'm. [ She gestures vaguely. ] ...Programming.

[ She's glad he shared that phrase with her. It's something she can say without having to explain her entire life, and he'll get it. ]