[ he notes the way she stalls. it's minute, almost imperceptible, but since he started talking, he'd taken care to focus on something to keep his mind steady, and she just so happened to be in the line of fire. it's faint, but it's there — the recognition in her eyes. ]

Friend of yours?

[ his voice is wry, but not nearly as wry as his grin. though it could be considered more of a grimace, the way a corner of his lips pull into something rather strained, forced. he thinks he'd be surprised, but also probably not.

he's not sure there's much of anything anymore that could surprise him. ]

I gotta bone t'pick with it, yeah. Hasn't really been anything but trouble since I got here. But if it's gonna keep me from dying, just don't tell me nothing about it.