He had picked his spot, ironically, as a cat might. He chose to face the one chosen to come and find him from high up towards the ceiling, using the shadows of the planes to his advantage as he lounged on the nose of one suspended from the ceiling. He looked as comfortable on his belly on the old plane as he had lounging on the bodies of the dead outside. The only difference was he deigned to notice the man who came in and called out.

His bead of red settled evenly on Steve's chest, though he had no intention of firing. It was simply his need to play with prey that allowed him this measure of entertainment. He knew a shot through the heart would only make this wolf angry.

"I thought you'd appreciate the sentiment," he replied casually. "You alone can appreciate how hard it is to decapitate that many men in so short a time."