The Exo sets the hammer and can of nails on the edge of the counter, leaning casually against the fixture. His horn dips with the nod he gives at Wesker's observation.

"Yep. Sometimes it's more, sometimes less. Number changes now and then."

His optics brighten at the question, grinning a little at that. "Ah, that's just Colonel, my chicken. It's warmer in the storeroom so she likes roosting in there."