Eyebrows raised, Elliot gave a responding nod as if the answer had been altogether obvious. "Of course. Stupid question. I'll know better than to ask next time," he replied in a mockingly contrite tone. It didn't fool him, the apathetic act the man showed. Put into a situation where he had to either fight for his life or become a meal for the undead, the majority would likely choose the former.
"Well at least you're humble about it, Mr. whatever-your-name-is. I'm glad you get so much entertainment from watching everyone else fight for their lives." Elliot shoved his hands in his pockets, resigning himself to his less than companionable company.
His attention was drawn to the flash of a coin dancing across the other man's knuckles. Given the stranger's attitude, Elliot didn't feel the need to voice his interest, although he did note with some reluctant curiosity that the hand operating the coin was trembling slightly. He'd dealt with one too many drug addicts before not to notice to tell-tale signs of impending withdrawal.
"I'm sure it's warmer over there, too." Which seemed like a random thing to say, but he was gauging the other man's reaction. There was a bit of a draft filtering through The Garden. Elliot, who'd worked up a sweat in the infirmary, was enjoying the coolness. It was possible the other man was simply cold.