well i grew up quick and i grew up mean

"Necessity does help things along, doesn't it?" He mused.  Thus far he was having no difficulty learning and retaining the language, but they had only just gotten started with his lessons, hadn't they?  Soon he would find if he was truly going to have an easy time of it, but with a teacher as good as his, he was not all too concerned.  

He realized he must have cut a rather rugged figure, with his scars and his fresh wounds.  They had begun to scab over and itched something awful, but he knew better to fuss with them.  Especially when they were in such delicate spots on his neck.  Once again he remembered how close he had been to losing his fight with the intruder and how close his brush with death had been.  Quick thinking and quicker dodging had saved him, but would he always be so lucky?  "You'd be surprised," he said, and if it was a touch bitter, then at least he was justified.  "I ain't much of a fighter myself, though."  The statement was laughable, nearing irony when paired with his appearance.

Aesop listened with half-interest as she told the story of how she came to stand on this beach, and though he did not devote his full attention, he nodded along at the appropriate times.  And in the end he frowned, passing judgement on her loyalty.  "Just up n' left?" he asked, "without a word?"  And despite his attempts not to, a frown tugged at the corners of his lips.  He was quick to correct himself, his face slipping back into its usual stony mask.