Who would she tell? Thomas is unlikely to want to stroke Raph's hair, and if he did, well, Abigail would have a few choice words for him, anyway.

She rolls her eyes at Raph.

"Words like those're just courtin' trouble with the gods, and you know it. I'll settle for havin' you alive and well." Smirking, she reaches for the spoon and samples the stew, a vision of nonchalance. "So, boyo... Does this youthful appearance of yours come with a younger man's stamina?"

Innocent blink.