[He snorted. Yeah, he was sure hand-delivering the animal and threatening harm upon someone he'd probably never see again would have a lot of weight. It wasn't a bad idea, though. It was more or less the most he could do besides trying to smuggle the thing onto the train. Sometimes though, the most he could do wasn't enough. Or it came too late.

The truth was, if he'd been nicer in other situations, Kavinsky might not have died. Ronan wouldn't have to keep looking at him half like he expected him to just disappear. What did he want? To make up for the shit that had happened before. How was he going to do that? He didn't know. Could you make up for someone's death?

He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, watching as the sheepdog moved on to sniffing Kavinsky's shoes, now. Probably, it hadn't had anything new to smell in a long time.]

As if they're going to care about what I have to say. But yeah, it's worth a shot. And if it fails, we punch them, take it, and run.

[He grinned, pretending his stomach wasn't flip-flopping from the way Kavinsky was looking at him.]