Cole sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, his hat hiding him away from view very effectively. "People who need help can see me. And I can let people see me, if I want or need to. But-"

He huffed softly. "Rifters. Can see me. Like the Herald could. The shard is sharp, slices the silence I wear. I have to work to make them not see me. But people still forget. Even them."