It's a precarious position to be in. Kind of scary, actually, being on the receiving end, but behind the mask, Donnie finds himself almost grinning. Maybe he's losing it, maybe he's reached his emotional quota and everything's just broken but the buzz of adrenaline takes away the edge of any real fear he rationally should have. But if rationality had a place here, he wouldn't have bolted or led a killer on a chase across rooftops.

"Was kind of planning on it," he replies, his voice purposely distorted, almost monotone as it filtered out. He keeps a firm grasp on his staff, gunmetal accented with metallic purple, his eyes unseen but flicking between Red Hood's weapon and the man himself for any tells that he might make another move.

"Nice of you not to shoot me though."