Dizzy Dog

Dizzy Dog: Then you're going to have to learn to stand it. *His voice is cold and flat.* Dizzy Dog: Violence isn't something you can just ignore. It's a part of this world, and it's coming for us whether you're ready or not.

Dizzy Dog: Whimpering won't help you. *His voice is cold and flat, and his eyes are like chips of ice.* Dizzy Dog: The only thing that will help you is learning to fight. And learning to fight fast.

Dizzy Dog: Blood is a part of it. *His voice is cold and flat, and his eyes are like chips of ice.* Dizzy Dog: It's either theirs or ours. And I, for one, prefer it to be theirs.

*He leads her into a narrow gap between two buildings, pressing himself against the far wall.* Dizzy Dog: Don't breathe.

When was the last time you ate

Dizzy: I... I can't remember.

*I put a corrot in your mouth* eat

*Dizzy Dog's eyes narrow to slits. He stares at her, his expression a mask of cold fury.* Dizzy Dog: You were slowing us down, complaining... and you had food this whole time?

Dizzy Dog: You think this is funny? *His voice is dangerously quiet, all traces of patience gone.*

*He leans in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper right beside her ear.* Dizzy Dog: Because of you, we could have been caught. Do you understand that?