[He pauses, runs a hand through his hair briefly and then gets back to the pile, himself. A good deal of it seems to be clothes, some electronics that don't work and that he doesn't always recognize, and then, well, weapons. He's already got a knife of his own, so he just starts sorting them away from the rest.

There's really no point to their attempt at an argument, he knows, because the end result doesn't change unless they force it to.]

... Like the way they brought us here.