He could tell what was wrong with his friend immediately - knew that no more words from him would be of any use. They hadn't been comforting in the first place - they hadn't done anything but make him angrier - so he decided that there was nothing more to be said. One wrong word, and there would be bloodshed.

Somehow, he thought, there would be bloodshed anyway. It was just a hunch.

He pushed back the chair he was sitting in and stood up slowly, giving Schuldig one last emotionless look (although possibly his eyes flickered for a moment, something hidden there that even when he had believed himself to be a sociopathic oracle he had been forced to hide most of the time). Words didn't seem needed.