The laissez-faire attitude with which his remarks were met did little to alleviate his disapproval. The man had committed a crime, certainly, but it sounded as though he had been incarcerated without further issue. That in itself was a punishment, and not something extra needed that would be decided by his incarcerators. Kris saw little reason in exacerbating the situation by torturing the man, because then who could say they were in the right or in the wrong? He, for one, wasn’t going to feel safe in this house if everyone’s idea of justice was tit for tat. Kris focused on finishing his meal, then pushed back from his place. He put his cutlery and his cup on his plate, grabbed his cane, and carefully made his way to the nearby sink.
His movements were stuttering at first, but once he gained some momentum, he kept moving without issue. No reply came toward the remarks made by Jack or Daniel until he’d put his things in the sink and turned about.
“Thank you for the meal, Jack; I’m going to excuse myself now, and leave you two to whatever conversation you’d originally planned. My apologies for stumbling into your meal.” He followed it up with a tight smile that looked more like a press of his lips, and then made his way out of the kitchen, doing his best to remain dignified despite his slow and painful limp. He was certainly going to have to find this Cecilia and see about his blood thinners.