Each word this man speaks leads Methos to suspect him all the more. Perhaps he too would not shake off Hannibal Lecter so easily as he'd planned.

Or he's imagining things. It was a possibility.

For now, he ordered himself a whisky, looking to Will expectantly for his order.

"Mmm. I used to go hunting. But I decided it wasn't for me." He shook his head, nose wrinkled.