Eh. [He shrugs, shoulders dropping heavily at her question. Execution isn't something he comments on; that would imply a coldness that he doesn't really use to cope with what he does to survive. Instead he puts on a tone and face of a young man who won't quite let anything put him down or ruin his mood, which, more often than not, just makes him obnoxious and nearly impossible to be taken seriously.]
Pretty darn quick. [He's almost smirking - but the temporary appreciation of his own ego is interrupted by the reminder that there's an unimpressive dead animal in the room.] Still wasn't me, though. You got that, right?
[ His insistence makes her lift her eyebrows at him in a dramatic, overdrawn sort of way. One reassurance was enough to get the story to stick, but two—
... I dunno. [He just doesn't want to leave it hanging in the air. Always shoot twice: one bullet to knock them out, the other to make sure they stay dead. The same logic applies to pretty much everything else.] You tell me--?
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Pretty darn quick. [He's almost smirking - but the temporary appreciation of his own ego is interrupted by the reminder that there's an unimpressive dead animal in the room.] Still wasn't me, though. You got that, right?
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That's cause for curiosity. ] And if it was?
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