[He cants his head to one side, frowning.] It's... good? [Briefly glancing straight into the camera, he dampens his lips and tries again:] Where I come from, there's two kinds of people: those who stay in their towns and houses like they tied to a roof beam, and those who welcome the world like she's an old friend.

You learn to listen her, you going to live a hell of a lot longer than if you try and block her out.

[A beat.]

Here, you don't have to go so far if you wanna be one place or another. One day, you able to freeze your cojones off, the next, you welcome to sweat away in the desert. [He grins. The idea is clearly still pretty novel to him.] Yeah, it's good!

Since the war started, you get a lot of stray dogs. Less in the towns—maybe they still got owners, or some poor bastard is hungry enough to eat them—but plenty when you out a little further. You ask Tuco, it's better to avoid them. One second they showing you their belly, [he leans forwards, pointing up to a little groove on his nose bridge,] then all the sudden they wanna take a chunk out of you.

[He falls back again, snorting irritably.]

People keep other animals to eat. Chickens, cows... uh, you know, that kind of thing.

...I don't know what you want me to say. I mean, you own a pet, you look after it. You own farm animals, you look after those, too. Everything else? [He just kind of... lifts his eyebrows.]

I don't know. Probably? [He shrugs, looking suitably disinterested.] I don't use the network too much.