[Yes, this is fine. Carlisle's eyes remain on his mug for a moment longer, his mind making its way down every possible road of questioning, turning over every rock in the hopes of finding an answer he hadn't yet considered. Failing that, he pushes one last sigh out of himself, rubbing at his temple.]

I suppose there is not sense in vexing myself over it now. I am worlds away, my bloodline is gone, and the last Longinmouth left is hardly one at all.