Well that answers the question for him, it had been rhetorical anyway, but he'd hoped for some sort of an answer. None is forthcoming, but hey, more sword is!

Pratt may not be reacting to that first wound but it definitely hurts, and he would like to avoid a second source of aeration for his abdomen that he has to stitch up later. He dodges to the side, twisting to avoid the point of the blade. He almost gets hit anyway because he's used to fighting with guns and knives not swords and isn't great at judging that distance.

Speaking of knives, he has one now, pulled from his belt and clearly a steak knife from the buffet. It's not the greatest, but he is holding it like he knows how to use it and is deadly serious in his stance as he backs off.

"I don't want to do this. I've been here two days and haven't had to kill anyone and I don't want to kill anyone. I really don't." His stare is unblinking, focused not on Izzy's eyes, but on perceived weak points, picking out where he could stab to cause the man to bleed out. "But I will. I will cull the herd if you make me."

He finally makes eye contact, and if Izzy has ever seen anyone on the verge of insanity this will be a familiar look, "Please don't make me."