Something in his claim offended her. That much was unmistakeable. But Peggy Carter held her tongue and kept some semblance of the peace, refusing to blurt out that no one -- least of all the SSR -- made Steve Rogers. The science that had blasted through Captain America's body was something of an after-thought to her mind: far more remarkable (to both her and Erskine) was the heart that powered the whole thing. No: Captain America had not been made, he had been chosen. Perhaps it hadn't been that way for Logan, and that alone was the reason why she kept her emotions in check. It helped neither of them for her to make her martyr's stand upon a hill of no consequence to their conversation.

And then the claws came out and arguments died away all on their own. Had she the strength and fortitude left, she would have sat up a little straighter. As it was, she merely let her stare settle long and hard upon the vicious growths. Peggy didn't think it necessary to blow hot air about how she wasn't about to jeopardize anyone's freedom with loose lips -- however natural it might have been for him to feel concern for such an outcome, she couldn't help but feel she owed him no assurances when she'd given no reasons to feed into his suspicion.

Instead, she corralled her curiousity into one question: "You were born with them, then?"