1412 made a vague grumbling noise in the back of his throat that could be interpreted as 'blech'. "Don't want to eat." He lifted his hand to his mouth, gnawing at the plasters over his fingers that covered nicks from the wires, his look over his hand stubbornly daring them to comment.

"Not nice to say 'him' when he's here," he grumbled, unaware that he did exactly the same thing himself quite often.