The snort and according eye roll that left Ira’s muzzle when the girl spoke of fending of a lion was demeaning in it’s skepticism. “Oh a lion was it,” The Princeling drew out in a devilishly teasing manner, that was anything but playful. Ira was attempting to rile her up by intentionally being mean because as far as he was concerned no one - meaning himself, of course - would believe such a ridiculous tale!. “I might have been convinced,” Ira paused, his tone suggesting that he was anything but convinced. “if one, there were actually any lions around here, and two, you wouldn’t have used the term ‘we’ which implies that you aided in taking down said cougar.” Ira spoke the emphasized words with heavy sarcasm. Of course the last part was a mere assumption, but he was confidently sticking to his assumption, nevertheless even if it ended up making an ass out of him - though he was sure that wouldn’t happen. When she explained what scrappy meant, Ira rolled his eyes again snapping, “I know what it means,” before he let out a ‘tsk’ sort of noise. “It also means, disjointed, and untidy.” He ‘humped’, eyeing her with cruel distaste - though there was a part of him that covertly sort of …admired her. In her own way, she was on a slightly equal footing as him.
“Tortuga,” Ira repeated impartially, as if he could careless. In all frankness, he sort of did despite that he had inquired as to her origins beforehand. “I see.” Ira remarked coolly, wondering what exactly conditioned them as ‘pirates’ except for perhaps, their speech if Bones’ was anything to go off of. Then she basically gave him her life story - at least that was what Ira thought of the extra, not necessarily needed information was - and he snickered to himself slightly, before the snicker darkened as he eyed her unhindered and without seeking permission, studying her carefully. His own ’parents’ - which was an extremely loose and inaccurate term used to describe the creatures that created him - were dead, and even if they weren’t physically dead they were dead as dead could be to him. Abandoned and left for death, Ira had vowed to never love or let anyone in enough to love him. Things were easier that way. At the end of the day, Jinx was the only living creature he would have considered himself close too and even then he was contented in their agreement and pushed her away if he feared he was letting her get too close. She was the only one he had in his life. “That’s conflicting, you know,” Ira informed her coldly, his ice eyes boring into her, surprisingly bright green ones. “If you find your father, you won’t be living your own life, you’d be living the life he wants you to live, providing he even wants you in the first place.” Ira was rather an expert at being unloved - even before he had strove to make it happen by his behavior.