[That reaction hits an instinct in him hard, and his violent insanity doesn't help. Pounce, attack, kill--that's what his head is screaming. And he wants it.

And he doesn't. He ends up with a club in hand, but rocks back--fighting the urge--a step or two. The confusion helps; stalling him into inaction.]

Could ask at you the same motherfucking thing. YOU BE LOOKING UP LIKE A HUMAN.

[A pause and the club finally disappears.] I'm being a troll.