"If you want help, that's not me," Vasquez can confirm, but he maybe has an appreciation for people who smoke, and also who have the same colour as him. He wants to keep some people close to him, besides, at least he won't yell at him if he lights up somewhere like others seem to want to do.

He's not sure about the future if this is what they act like about a cigarette. He stares at the other man curiously, because the Comanche, they were like devils and witches and Vasquez would be more wary, but they had plenty of women at home who called themselves brujas and what Vasquez learned is to keep on their good side.

Most of the time. Sometimes, he can't help but run his mouth. "You could do magic? All kinds?"