[ Hold on, he'll get there, he just needs a second. Now that he's pretty sure the big guy -- Livio, it's fucking Livio -- isn't going to rush him, Wolfwood lets his combative stance relax, rubbing a hand over his face to try and clear his thoughts. Don't mind the cleaver, pal -- nothing personal. This is just Noman's -- everyone's ready for a fight here. ]

Your Wolfwood, the one you knew. He's the guy in that grave, right? [ This is so messed up. This is worse than a thousand Stampedes, worse than a million tiny Knives. ] The Livio I knew is dead too. Guess that makes us survivors.

[ The way he says 'survivors', though, sure sounds like he means something else. 'Losers', maybe. ]

Don't suppose he left a pack of smokes behind?