Felix has trouble with new people, too, but at twelve years old he's far from self-aware. His posture does relax a little, as he removes his hand from his sword and fails to be inconspicuous about wiping tears away from his eyes.
"That doesn't even make any sense. You're the one who hated me before you even met me. That's stupid." He folds his arms in a huff. "Do you even know how to fight? Picking fights when you don't know how is going to get you hurt. That's even stupider. I've been studying swordplay since I was little. You're not even armed. Even my friend Sylvain knows to always carry a weapon, even if he doesn't like fighting."
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"That doesn't even make any sense. You're the one who hated me before you even met me. That's stupid." He folds his arms in a huff. "Do you even know how to fight? Picking fights when you don't know how is going to get you hurt. That's even stupider. I've been studying swordplay since I was little. You're not even armed. Even my friend Sylvain knows to always carry a weapon, even if he doesn't like fighting."