[Guzma's doing his best to make peace with the fact he's the living embodiment of the very thing that hurt him so badly. It's almost like a cruel mockery of his general state, isn't it? Not that he's so self-aware to realize it.

He shakes her head when she starts to apologize. After all, it's better that he knows, right?]

It ain't you that's got me pissed, don't worry. You ain't done me no wrong here.

I'm glad y'told me.

[He turns and heads over to the couch, scooping Masquerain's sleeping lump of a form up into his arms as he takes a seat. Holding the snoozing bug in his lap as he looks to her.]

Just got me thinkin' about shit from home. I'm fine.