The naked terror in Mark's posture is discomfiting, and Miles shifts unconsciously in his seat. It doesn't come as a surprise to him, but to see it like that, to see his clone so uncomfortable and afraid of a man who isn't even in the room. He has to stop himself from reaching out, because comfort is...not something his clone would accept from him right now. Maybe it's what his clone wants, but he wouldn't want it from Miles. That much Miles is sure of.

So instead he just looks at Mark, shrugs in mild agreement, and toys with his fork, his own food still only half-finished. He doesn't have much of an appetite. He tilts his head at his clone. "Doesn't seem to me like you're thinking much of killing at all right now."