[ ...Well, he's never been lucky, so that barrage of questions isn't anywhere near as surprising as Sephiroth's initial approach. Cloud doesn't plan on answering the rest - small talk isn't something he'll ever be good at, precisely, but it's practically a foreign language to him, now.
Or at least not until Sephiroth goes and points out the obvious, that treasure he's got pinned between his hands so hard it might crack (or would if there was any strength in them). ]
It's mine. That's what.
[ And clearly nobody else's business, at that, as he shrugs his hunched up shoulders away and turns into himself to better hide his prize. Let alone some snot-nosed kid (disregarding the fact that he is one, himself, and considerably snottier - in the metaphorical sense, anyway). ]
it's okay, though. i think you get a pass on that, here.
Or at least not until Sephiroth goes and points out the obvious, that treasure he's got pinned between his hands so hard it might crack (or would if there was any strength in them). ]
It's mine. That's what.
[ And clearly nobody else's business, at that, as he shrugs his hunched up shoulders away and turns into himself to better hide his prize. Let alone some snot-nosed kid (disregarding the fact that he is one, himself, and considerably snottier - in the metaphorical sense, anyway). ]