[ Oh, that laugh pisses him off. And, pettily, it makes him hope all the more that whatever comes next is gonna wipe that easy-going smile off the guy's face.

It's a train of thought that has him scowling as he returns to his place at the counter, leaning against it as he gestures with the other skewer in his hand, standing as tall as he can, head raised so he can look down on Wriothesley as much as possible. In truth, it's not even a conscious move -- he just can't help trying to make himself look bigger, scrambling to try and come across more authoritative and confident than he really is. ]

What, you think I'm scared of whatever's gonna happen? You shouldn't go making assumptions about people like that.

[ And just to make it clear that he's not scared at all, and he's definitely able to keep up with Wriothesley, he yanks a piece of meat off his own skewer, chewing and swallowing before pointing at Wriothesley with the skewer. (Rude!) ]

S'not like I was avoiding these 'cause I was scared, I just figured it wouldn't be worth the trouble. I can take whatever they do. Easy.

[ Words are so easy. ]