Sam staggered with her, shiving the gun away, not looking or thinking. She sounded and moved kind of like Six, so he let her guide him for now. "Bastards. Damn dinosaurs. Animals killed men, right in front of my eyes." The words tumbled out, quiet, and mixed with tears. And a queasiness.
"I hate war." It was a fact. Sam had started fighting because people he cared about, even if he had just met them, were in danger. And he'd never stop, as long as anyone was in danger. But he hated it.