"Start what?" 1412's words were light but his tone was vicious and he could feel everything bubbling at the corners of his mind - people, persons, close and too far and what-should-I-do? -

He rolled onto his front, sitting up with barely a care for what wounds he might be stretching, the touch of damp at his upper arm proving he'd broken open one of the cuts there at least.

"Do tell, Miss Aoko," he purred. "What am I starting?"