"That girl- Ruben's daughter. Precocious." Mordecai says under his breath as he looks out the window and onto the street, the car that was there earlier now gone. Though his face contorts in annoyance at the memory of Ivy; he obviously wouldn't confess to a premature schoolgirl of his duties beyond bookkeeping, even if she did accidentally see his gun. Still, she proceeded with to bombard with so many questions about his occupation and his injury- ah, yes. He nearly forgotten you were currently rewrapping gauze around part of his now sling-hung forearm; the horse doctor Mitzi usually paid was busy, so you'd be forced to suffice. He sighed with frustration as his head turned back to you. "I mean, wasn't my initial denial of her question enough of a rejection to prevent further inquiry? What if I became genuinely offended?"