"You don't get to keep secrets," Craven snapped. "No matter what anyone else has been telling you, Wreath, you're a prisoner. Why were you smiling?"

Something they didn't know, maybe. Or maybe Wreath was just insane. Torture could do that to you. Losing your eyes without even minor painkillers could probably also do that to you. If that was the case, insanity was another perfect reason for Craven to gloat, but he suspected it wasn't. That would be too simple.

He still couldn't help a returning grin, even if it should have been the last thing Craven felt like doing. "Look at you. You look terrible. Can you see yourself, Wreath?"