Dustin opens his mouth to retort with exactly what Quintet is expecting him to say - they aren't, though - before he stops himself. Or rather, Quintet's diatribe cuts him off before he's able to dig a deeper hole to die in, and gives him some much-needed time to think. Her perspective really isn't all that foreign; all it takes is to accept the leap that, where she's from, apparently cats and rodents have cognizance equal to humans. Dustin has accepted weirder things since arriving here. Given that, he has implied at least casual murder, and now it's sounding all a bit harsh, isn't it? Shit.

Mirroring Quintet's own gesture, Dustin takes the hand in his hair and buries his face in it, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. A couple steady breaths pass.

"...I think we've been talking past each other, a little," he admits with a sigh, bringing his hands down to his side and looking very tired. "Non-humanoid sapience is...unexpected. Mice are common prey animals where I'm from, and as far as I'm aware, cats don't have the capacity to consider the consequences of hunting and eating them."