Pullio looks at her face and suddenly becomes aware of the blood on his face. HE wipes his right hand on his pants and quickly tries to rub off the blood on his chin, realizing the futility of such a move. "Pullio. Warrior. Triana." He points to his blade. The berserker goes back to the wall, arms crossed. He closes his eyes and hangs his head forwards, letting out a large sigh. "Not good thinking. Only kill. Words not..." He clenches his fist and strains for the right word, "...work with Pullio." He thinks and raises his head, "Why you no go group? Why me? Me....big. People see me. Not you." He sighs and looks up at her with a sheepish look of noncomprehension on his face. "Pretty wolfs." He nods to Shadow and Mystic. "Sneaky. Triana not so sneaky."<br/><br/>The berserker looks up into the sky. "I help. Pay back debt." He pushes himself off wall. "You want them kill?" His lack of verbal comprehension seems almost impressive, but understandable considering he speaks a language that is extremely close to Gaelic.