[Estinien's skin prickles, much like it always has when perceiving a potential threat, after a life of having to be attuned to any and all danger. He's watching Nero more carefully, as if wondering if Nero will be the one to pull out a weapon and go for some bloodshed.

Really, the cheerful clownery interspersed with things that feel like threats is starting to get old, and they've barely just met. Still, he holds his ground.]

If you require me to more laboriously outline my thinking, then say as much. But it will mean little if you insist upon inserting whatever motive you like upon my actions.

[He narrows his eyes.]

I'm sure you feel like quite the philosopher, deciding that those around you are mere animals enslaved by their baser instincts.