Tormented Tarns and he was the man for the job; a one-man bombsquad

He notes the way the stranger pauses, admittedly a little satisfied; it's been awhile since he's had the energy to play such games. He can't help but bark a laugh at the returned question. Now you expect me to predict the motives of a stranger, He says with a slight grin, tone playfully chiding. His own brief pause follows as he takes a moment to fully register the scents surrounding the other; pack-scent, oddly familiar but not immediately recognizable. For all I know, you could be a murderer from Germany, prowling the neighborhood looking for victims. Not that he really suspects it or knows where Germany is supposed to be (he heard it once, okay?), but the point stands.