as we can see, Gaël resembles his father.
At her words, turquoise eyes affixed on the loudmouthed little thing rather crudely. There was no fake smile, no "ignore-what-she-said, she's-just-a-kid". "Mais, je ne suis pas celui qui fait bouger un cordon joli près de mon petit cul frit donc je peux être violé." He'd spit a lot of foreign words at her that she evidently could not understand (it was clear to him that she had no grasp of foreign languages other than her own), and the boy really had little patience for ignoramuses. Gaël, stale-faced and nonchalant, gave her a moment to absorb any of his words, even if she could not understand them. He himself knew that he had little experience with kids, and his patience ran a little thin when their curiosities were sent amok. She didn't know better, no, and it wasn't like he was being a bad role model if she couldn't understand a damn word he was saying, either. "Personnellement, je préfère regarder et sembler bizarre qu'être une putain." He didn't mean it.
Gaël took a few quiet steps and approached the well, for a moment propping himself up onto his hind legs to peer down into the vast emptiness it possessed before sending the ignorant child a look of disillusionment. "Dis well has rainwater in de bottom," he mumbled. "Why would someone stand in de water in de bottom of a well?"