[ Claude peeks out from behind his hand, looking incredulously at Ethlyn. Does she really have to ask him that question? There's something unfamiliar in the twist of his mouth, the furrow of his brow, expression a little stormy in his inability to adequately cloak his true feelings anymore. ]

We're soldiers, Ethlyn. I've killed people by the dozen before, and so have you.

[ There's no need to be precious about it. On the battlefield or off of it, death is death. ]

Can you really tell me that if you discovered who was behind all of this, that felling them could return the innocent people here from back where they came, you wouldn't welcome their death, be it by blade or bane? [ His shoulders sag. ] But no, I'm not plotting to murder anyone. And no poisonings I've been behind in my life have been fatal. Just uncomfortable enough to remove them from the equation, should they need to be removed.

[ They get absolutely horrifying diarrhea. It's not pretty. ]