Everything is falling into place pretty well for Hans. He's pretty sure some people would argue that the fumes are dangerous and probably a little bit mind-numbing. But he feels good, really good. He's calm, collected and pineapple. Wait, what? Focus, Hans. When he sees the figure cross through the pavilion, it's all he can do not to laugh. He really hopes he's not laughing anyway. He's increasingly disorientated from the stench and the dank, but he has a single-minded determination.

It's true, Rat can't look everywhere at once, but Hans has no intention of launching at him like some wild animal. Instead, he'll stalk around him as he makes his approach, looking rather more like a smug house cat tracking something coincidentally like a rat. He'll step into view in time to block Rat from properly nearing the finish, the blood on his own sword more than apparent, but every other aspect of him looking relatively neat sans the odd gash.

"You've done well for yourself." He murmurs, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips.