He doesn't seem surprised when she says he's probably younger than she. "Well, if you're at least a few hundred years old, there's no way to tell," he replies with a shrug. "I don't remember anythin' before becoming an adjuchas so I got no idea how long ago I was human."

When she mentions the wound being fresh, one of his hands goes to the center of his chest, absently scratching at his shirt. "Yeah... I get that," he mumbled, and turned his gaze to her again. "What y'need is a good fight. Get your blood up and your thoughts quiet." Run away from your feelings, like a sensible creature.