[ He sees the way Gray's gaze falls upon his wounded arm, of course. Sees the way her eyes widen, her mouth starting to form a surprised 'o.' And, obviously, he ignores it. Yes, he's missing an arm. No, he's not particularly in the mood to talk about.

Instead, he gives a low grunt as he beckons with his fingers, indicating she should hurry up and provide him with a light -- and gives a cant of the head when she offers him a deal instead of compliance. ]

... a condition?

[ The cigarette's removed from his mouth for the moment as he looks Gray over like he's studying an unusual specimen under a pane of glass. But, like, could he blamed for being a little curious about her response? After a moment's scrutiny he gives a dry laugh, barely more than a hoarse exhale cracked past a crooked smirk. ]

So you started growing a bit of a spine, huh.

[ He hadn't expected Gray, of all people, to raise any protest instead of just quietly obliging his demand. And it's not like he'd consider Gray his friend or anything ... he can at least admit that this isn't something that feels bad to witness. (The tiny spark of nostalgia that flutters at the very back of his thoughts doesn't hurt, either. It reminds him of back when he'd protect his spineless friends from bullies back when he was much younger, and watched them learn to stand up for themselves at least a little.) ]

Fine. I'll play along. What's this condition of yours.