He really didn't get it, and there was nothing in Jo that didn't. She'd played too easy the go around. Moving in monsters, who turned into friends, and sleeping with archangel, which turned into a vague mess, and neither she'd had to stay around through to the end, whatever that end was, given the precarious balance always more in their favor than hers. Something she knew in her marrow, even if she'd never give it up in a word.

Arrogance and naivety did not good for someone if it was just there to get them killed, and Jo threw another glare in Kol's direction. It wasn't that she didn't want Thorfinn to know, especially with them living there, so close to him all the time, or that she didn't get it. What Kol was saying. About the less and less animals available. That he had somehow managed to avoid whatever reaction he'd been having to Kol cutting himself open on accident.

(Like she had. The cut in her palm. Blood welling up and trickling down her skin.

Except on purpose. While knowing exactly what it did, and could do.)

"And to think, you can't just throw another temper tantrum so he'd know."
Or touch him, without risking a whole lot more in the bargain, even if she'd lose.