Bruno would cast the man a sideways glance, quirking his brow and even pursing his lips as the stranger approached him. His arms cross and the upper half of his body leans backwards, “If you think that those aspirations are within reach as I step off of- What? A freight ship?” He laughs aloud, shaking his head even widening his eyes as he looks into the stranger’s. “What of the pursuit of happiness? Food, even?” Bruno even snorts this time, as over-the-top as usual, “Your head lives in the clouds, sir!” He exclaims, tossing his arms outward and stretching them above his head, “I am here, to make the clouds that force me to forget! Hah!”
He wouldn’t have even let the man get a word in edgewise, strutting off in faux-anger, around the market and into the alleyways of the city; searching for sweet, sweet relief.
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