Jack was about to reply, when the girl called him short. At this, his eyes went dead. He smiled a dead smile, and the dagger in his hand disappeared. it wasn't magic, of course. He had simply moved faster than most would have expected. A lifetime of killing people bigger than you could give one remarkable speed. The dagger flew through the air, landing solidly in the brother's shoulder with a solid thunk. Jack sighs, as he turns his attention back to the elf. "Sorry about that. I don't like being called short. Say, mr elf, do I seem short to you? Do you think I'm diminutive? Tiny? Dwarfish? Well?"
Jack hooked the dagger on the ground with his boot, kicking it into the air. He caught it in midair, and, continueing in one fluid movement, stabbed it into the elf's right hand, pinning it to his bow. He then twisted it, wondering how much pain the elf would take before screaming. It had been a while since he'd stabbed an elf. The feel of their flesh, to Jack, seemed different. Softer, more graceful. And he had always enjoyed the look they got. Almost as if they were indignant at the thought that a mere human would dare stab one of them. it kind of made him want to stab them more.