His fingers furl in loosely, his hand dropped to his lap. He's miscalculated. Notes it, frankly and without disappointment. He's learning about her. Joan Agnes Dority. Broadly brash and resilient, selectively apprehensive (the selection of which is unconventional, to say the least). Potentially reckless. It's a vague outline. Somewhere within it may be the reason she's here. Based on her need for correction, it can't be personality.

His lips flatten into a self-deprecating line. His name usually takes explaining one way or the other.

"It's just been years since anyone called me Hunter. Stick to Dr. Percy if you'd like." Damn it. Begrudgingly, he corrects himself, "Mr. Percy."