William just snorted, clearly unbothered by her insult. The way he saw it, the grand showy one was the one without much class, ordering people about and then insulting without even sugarcoating it. Really, his sister at age ten could do better than this. 

So he just shrugged his shoulders, and said without much care, "Whatever you say, miss. You just think that, then." He looked around at his new... companions? And took note that he and Taeyang were the only males. Perhaps vampires were sexist? That was an interesting thought. Or maybe all the original vampires were guys, and they suddenly started going after ladies, and the ladies just didn't bother? 

Another interesting thought. It was certainly worth the consideration, later, when he was out of the blunt one's presence. [i]Blunt,[/i] he thought, [i]is a suitable nickname for her. Best tread carefully, though. Wouldn't want to end up dead again[/i]. He restrained the urge to chuckle at that. He really couldn't help holding it, so he continued after some moments, anger and some amount of sprouting hate urging him on, giving him confidence, "Aye, the one who keeps casual and keeps to himself is most certainly a horrible, useless one, while the one who blatantly shows favoritism and insults on a whim is certainly the one whose opinion matters the most. And what have I to fear? The one who apparently is the most powerful one here already dislikes me from a look-over, and yet you've no idea what I can do. I may indeed be useless, but I may be the opposite as well."

And yet he stood there, hands in his pockets, calm as the sea on a sunny day. Shoulders squared, eyes burning at such disregard, at what was an injustice in his eyes. That, and it also may or may not be the fact that she disregarded [i]him[/i]. She couldn't know, of course, that his hand was curled around the spice canister- she comes at him, he doubts she'll enjoy having superhot spices sprayed into her face. He could hear and see better than he ever had, so she probably could do even better- and will make it all the worse if he's forced to defend himself. 

Speaking of which, how will he even get out of here? Doesn't matter- if he hates anything, it's people like this one. 

A scowl replaced his calm at his thoughts following his part. 

"Don't know where I am, don't know who I am, don't know what I am, and I'm already being judged without any knowledge of what I can do, who I was, or who I am. Sometimes the prettiest of creatures can be the deadliest, and yet, sometimes others blend so well, that you don't know they're there until you're dead. Don't judge a book by its cover, Miss. I'd certainly appreciate it if you did."

He wished he had the feel of a handgun in his hand right about now. He felt as if things might escalate a bit, with his anger and courage that stems from being dead and having nothing to really go for. And he didn't, did he? What was waiting for him? Who were his friends, his enemies? Who could he trust? Oh, he could try to trust, but he figured he might either get on his feet, or get his knees broken. 

In the end, he really had only one thought; it was [i]Whatever. I'm either dead or not as dead.[/i]