It - he, potentially - doesn't do anything stupid, which earns him a temporary reprieve from having his rearranged organs once again disarranged. The question of why provokes a peeved twitch of her mouth, but it also appears to not displease her more than she already is.

"Because I resent imposition," Woe says, dropping her palm and stepping forward (and slightly diagonal, as if she can effectively conceal much of anything behind herself), "And I have very little patience for being told what to do."

It's not a very altruistic answer, and a person might expect her accomplice to flinch at it, but the effect is paradoxical: he relaxes, responding to some unknown pattern of behavior or hidden cue, and gets back to the task at hand.

"Why do you ask?"