[ He’s learned about guns, and he has no love for them. He’s an archer, or he had been before Ramsay took his fingers and his strength, and the sound that accompanies the firing of a bullet is absolutely ridiculous. An arrow is nearly silent, and hardly gives a target time to get away so long as the hunter remains unseen. He doesn’t see himself ever wielding a gun as a weapon.
That isn’t what draws a bark of a laugh out of him, though. It’s everything else. It’s the idea of being put back in a situation where he’s made to suffer. It’s the suggestion that he’s capable of taking anyone down right now.
For a brief moment, he stops struggling. ]
What do you expect me to do?
[ Because honestly, look at him. He’s skin and bones, half a corpse, looking several years older than he actually is. ]
no subject
That isn’t what draws a bark of a laugh out of him, though. It’s everything else. It’s the idea of being put back in a situation where he’s made to suffer. It’s the suggestion that he’s capable of taking anyone down right now.
For a brief moment, he stops struggling. ]
What do you expect me to do?
[ Because honestly, look at him. He’s skin and bones, half a corpse, looking several years older than he actually is. ]