His eyes were locked on Hans, though his other senses were alert, ready for him to merely be a distraction. He couldn't really sniff out trouble coming from anywhere else but in front of him.

He shrugged. "After a fashion." He didn't feel like it. But he could put a face on to look stronger than he actually was. "I'm afraid I haven't got time for small talk." His fingers shifted a bit on the handle of the machete. He tried not to tense up, but it showed in his shoulders. "I don't think you're the one that's meant to do the congratulating around here." Did this guy honestly think he could stop him? Not here. Not after all of this.