"Perhaps." Landel was smart, yes, but he was also proud. Scar's lip curled, the memory of Kimbley's taunting laugh as he transmuted his arm. That bastard's pride had certainly lead to his death.

The Ishbalan did not dwell on the fact that, in the end, Kimbley had won anyway. He couldn't bear to add it to everything else that was piling up.

"These circumstances are preferable to the ones I come from." He had a real bed. Constant food. Compared to the poverty he was used to, this was a damn good deal. Scar liked to think that he could handle the monsters and madmen.