Torque's pale green eyes barely caught much detail at all, at least by his standards, as the dog sprinted between his legs, and he instinctively shifted his boots far enough apart to let the canine through. With a highly confused expression on his face, as if what he had seen couldn't have been what he'd just seen, Torque look first at his old friend as the taller man picked up his niece, and then twisted around to look at the animal cowering behind him. If he hadn't known better, he would've thought that Ammo's dog had been trying to flee from the devil himself, or a very nasty explosive device, rather than an extremely innocent looking three year old.
With mussed little pigtails, an embroidered pair of absolutely tiny jeans and a shirt with the sun and moon fighting on it, the toddler peering over at them hardly looked like a criminal mastermind.
But when he looked at the dog, detailed with ribbons that Torque half thought he recognized as coming from her ponies, he had serious doubts about Patience waiting a few more years before launching her attempt to take over the world. "Yeah, I'd rather eat an old WWII ration," his tone was distracted by looking at the pitiful looking dog, and after reaching down and around to pet the animal, he raised an eyebrow in Ammo's direction. "Munchkin take up beauty school practice? Or is this your handiwork?"