It was a quiet couple of minutes, the silence broken only by the crunch of their shoes against the gravel and the occasional little pop of teeth as Wolfwood worried at his fingernail. He'd never really given a lot of consideration to his need for something to chew on before, blaming it on the rush of cigarettes, the childish sweet treat of suckers... but here, without anything else to sate his craving other than his own nails, he's having to accept the fact that he's got a problem. There better be toothpicks in this town, is all he can say, or something else that he can get his frustrations out on. Because without something to chew on, he needs something to fight, and the only something around right now is a weepy sunovabitch who'd probably just cry if he got punched. And where's the fun in that?

Annoyed, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, and started hunting for good rocks to kick on the path. He'd just spotted a great one a few steps ahead when the sad sack next to him decided it had been quiet for too long. ]

My meds? [ Medication made you better, which Wolfwood supposed the vials did, but that shit wasn't medicine. It was a goddamn curse, it was it was. ] No, I'm out here pretending to be human for a bit, don't tell anyone.

[ There's that rock! He gave it a good kick, and squinted with satisfaction as it flew too far for him to track. ]

I mean it. Don't say a thing to anyone, got it?