[ Corvo gets a pointed glance at that before Daud looks away again, not caring for the question, not caring for the way it leaves him feeling almost vulnerable. Because it's true, this is twice he has Corvo Attano to credit for his survival. And he can't say he understands or wants to understand the reason behind either instance. ]
I'm in no mood for riddles, Corvo.
[ To be fair, he's never in the mood for riddles. (And speaking of riddles, speaking of cryptic fucking bullshit, it occurs to Daud that a certain smirking bastard might be watching this, now. Is probably watching this, musing superior. 'Laugh while you can, you bastard,' but the thought's half-hearted, lacking fire. )]
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I'm in no mood for riddles, Corvo.
[ To be fair, he's never in the mood for riddles. (And speaking of riddles, speaking of cryptic fucking bullshit, it occurs to Daud that a certain smirking bastard might be watching this, now. Is probably watching this, musing superior. 'Laugh while you can, you bastard,' but the thought's half-hearted, lacking fire. )]
I expect you had enough blood on your hands.