"No. Not hesitation. You just happened to give me a curious answer." Crysan moves the blade of the scythe to Eagle's throat. He hasn't passed. Not yet. He hasn't yet gotten the point. Crysan presses the blade into Eagle's throat with enough pressure that it would be painful, but it's not enough to break skin. "My game is almost over, and we'll soon see if you have anything left to pass."