I haven't changed though. [ he momentarily abandons his cake feeding objective, his posture straightening. ] Or at least I don't think I have...? [ he lifts his arm, pretending to sniff himself. ] Does death change you? [ rhetorical. ]

Anyway, don't you think it's a little too late to be crying over spilled milk? I would have died after you no matter what. And it wasn't like I had planned on dying that day. He just managed to pull one over on me.