"You're not dumb, Lyra," Quackshot said, closing and stowing his flask away. "And I told you the weather was a fit for waterfowl. I trust you let that wound heal properly, yes?" 

He cocked his head towards her at the mention of Bianca. "You named your weapon? Jonah, Ronnie, do you name your weapons, too? Is this a common practice to name weapons in this day and age?" He pulled out one of his scalpels. "I'll call you Talon. Yes, that's a good name for you. And I'll name my forceps Beaky." 

He distracted himself by trying to name all of his medical tools, personalizing them and softly cooing to them like a church dove to her chicks.