Utterly Mad

Seb politely waved away the offer of drink.  He has enough of his own without needing to know what bloodweed mixed with rotgut might do to him.  He picked up one of the ammo cylinders and tested its weight, contemplating what the armorer had said, before stacking all of them upon the wooden crate and lifting the whole lot, carrying it into the RV. 

What did it mean to him, one who sat so close to the line between feral beast and reasoning being?

He rolled the question over and over in his head as he sat filling speedloaders for the Bear, preparing to rain death upon other thinking, living beings.  For...for what?  The safety of the town?  He wasn't so sure anymore.