The Sentinels rot until the weeds are grown

Oh. Ohh. They seemed to recognise each other in the same instant, though where the stranger's features lit up, Redshank's only darkened. He had only just managed to repress the memory of being shot in the backside and blacking out — twice — only to wake up with some foreign object strangling his throat. And he still didn't know what that had all been about. Unable to come up with any sort of comeback, he instead just gave a low, frustrated grunt at her light-hearted teasing.

At her query, the boy shrugged. He was taken aback slightly by her jesting tone, so used to strangers meeting his aggression with similar hostility. He was thankful for it, if he had to be honest. "I..." Good question. "...I don't fuckin' know," he admitted lowly, defeat laced into the reluctance of his words.