“Yeah, I’ve got a friend with a sense of humor like that,” Cid says with a sigh. “Dour bastard.”

He shakes his head, freeing his mind from the tumult of his earlier interaction with that particular man. Cid turns and throws a leg out on either side of Vander’s body so that they’re finally facing one another.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asks, holding half a beer up for Vander to kill if he wanted.