Skepticism, another healthy trait. Slot it right alongside that destructive but ultimately harmless anger that left the room in a state to cut feet, and Clarke's ultimately had worse first impressions here. Number 6 offers out a handkerchief to use as a compress and she hesitates a moment to take it, giving him a rather narrow look as if to imply you know that'll stain, right? But ultimately drags the linen from his fingers, and continues.

"His own word, and that of the only person who's ever escaped. And the way things work around here lends to the hypothesis, especially the resurrection of the dead."

Dab dab dab, then a careful drag of her eyes back to his face.

"...There's a point were disbelief stops being a coping mechanism, and just starts to hold you back." Complacency is the death of progress, and stubborn idiocy was dangerously unhelpful.