[Fiona pauses and sends a long glare across from where she is sitting.]

Hey. Skaglick. You ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, you ought to be making the most of the fact that you're...you know, alive? You're welcome, by the way.

[Something about his attitude very obviously gets under her skin and, rather than continue to indulge his whining, she drags a half dented piece of metal (dingy, but with just enough shine to spot her reflection if she wipes away the dust) with her foot.

Then, silently, she begins to try and work the glass out of her head while biting her lip to keep any expression that isn't 'frustration' off her face.]