Words don't mean shit. [He's sitting on the ground, not facing Cain, rifling through the bag, muttering just loud enough to be heard.] These humans, they can talk and make promises until they choke and die, but when it comes down to it, words are just words. When things get a little bit difficult, a little bit hard, these humans are the first ones to run away. You ask them to prove themselves, and they can't. You ask them to show you just how serious they are, and they can't.
Maybe you've been taking a few too many lessons from these humans you keep locking your messages too.
[He glances back.]
Do you talk about me? Mother? Us? All the stuff I told you not to talk about? I don't know, because you shut me out. You talk and talk about how much you care about me, and then you do this.
[There's a flicking noise. The lighter. The pack of cigarettes. The drifting, thick smell of smoke.]