[At first Dante simply assumed he startled the guy, broke him out of a coffee scowling trance or something. But he doesn't miss the eye change, the strange blackness as they turn on him. The only indication he displays that he saw what he did was a slight narrowing of his own eyes, before his expression returns to a bored and neutral state.

Whatever, he's seen weirder.]

I don't know anything about pumpkin lattes, but you're preaching to the choir, pal. You, and about a hundred other people.

[Or more, or less, he hasn't really been keeping track. And here Dante doesn't even realize he's being sassed.]

You tried askin'?