Ed listens to Pratts rambling for a moment before growing tired of it, the pistol nudging at his mouth again, pushing his chin to the side. He's already been told people don't just die, here. Shooting this lad in the face won't be enough. Whatever Ed is dreaming up right now is infinitely worse- mutilation no doubt.

"Stop talking." he mutters quietly, an eerie calm that is incredibly out of place, given their positioning. "I need to determine if you're still useful to me without a tongue."