[Hm. She sounds like someone he knows, but he keeps that to himself. Actually, there's little he could infer from what she's said so far, but he doesn't quite like making those observations, and she seems... prickly. Nor would he care to have similar observations made about him.

Just sounds like a lot of work to be honest, and he's just not up for thinking too hard. It'll only make him sleepy.

... Speaking of pain, though, his back hurts from being in this position, so he finally pulls himself up, dragging his chair to the table she's at, his former napping place. Instead of sitting directly across from her, he moves over a few spaces, giving them both some room.]

So you're not the do-gooder type, huh? [he says with a mild tease, not calling out whether she is or isn't. doesn't really matter. but they might actually have something in common- a frightening thought.] Actually, do you know why we're here? I vaguely recall some weird animal talking to me, but then my partner violently beat me up, and now I can't remember anything from that day.

[And he just admits that so casually. Like it happens so often. Just another day ending in whhhhy 'Y.' Not that the answer matters too much, either, because he's pretty sure he'll never know peace with Ferris here.]