"Because sometimes venting helps," he snapped, narrowing his eyes slightly. It didn't bother Dax if he couldn't help. In fact, he was pretty sure that he couldn't help, even before Rook insisted that he couldn't. Dax didn't think he was anyone's problem solver, but he was a damn good listener. Rook tended to bottle things up, and Dax wanted him to just let it out. It was better than letting someone beat him up.
"You bottle shit up and then get pissy and either take it out on me or whichever poor, unfortunate non-Abi soul is nearby or you get so damn distracted that training isn't a fair fight anymore," he added, lifting his arms in exasperation. "You could at least tell me why I'm able to beat the shit out of you."