"Petulant child," Crane hisses quietly under his breath.

You keep yourself quiet and very, very still as the Arkham Knight leaves the room in anger, the two having had another petty spat about whether Batman should be dealt with quickly. You keep your eyes on the syringes filled with orange liquid, and steady as Crane turns to looks at you.

"He doesn't have the slightly clue about patience, does he?" He drawls smoothly, and you find that's your cue to nod in agreement.