Yeah, it's a pokemon - a trash bag what stinks to high heaven when it opens its dang mouth! Y'all have a whole lot in common, maybe I oughta change up what I call you.

[He huffs, frowning at the child and narrowing his eyes. Should he even indulge them? They're a particularly snooty little brat, and his experience with snooty little brats has never been very good.]

How 'bout shelter? Food? Water - stuck in this dang place without the proper necessities ain't 'xactly something to take lightly, 'specially when there's lil snots like you I gotta think 'bout. [He swats at them, never really making contact - he knows better.] Y'all are sweating worse'n most of us here, Amsonia... For real, you doin' alright?

[He's actually being sincere here. They're wearing those thick sweaters for crying out loud, and while he's uh...way more knowledgeable than to ask why (he's got a few scars he used to hide himself, on his back, but nowadays he just doesn't care), it can't be easy in this heat.]