Hirsch stood there and let out a small chuckle to Shannon’s response. The creature didn’t understand humans that well, and no one really understood how and why marines acted the way they do toward each other, well, aside from other marines of course.
“Nah girl, we’re good, Wolfe is good, just a bit stressed out is all,” Hirsch said thoughtfully, he really did care for Wolfe, they might as well be blood brothers. Ever since boot camp something drew them together, their personalities couldn’t be more different, tastes, skills, opinions- All different, but for some reason, they always stuck together, as if they’ve known each other since they were kids; however it only feels that way. Either marine wouldn’t think twice to dive on a grenade for the other.
“I think he needs to get laid or something,” Hirsch said with a shrug.
“Don’t worry your pretty little self about it ok that’s just how people like Wolfe and myself talk to each other, it means we care.” Hirsch said as he patted one of Shannon’s massive arms, as If she were a giant dog.
Just then a large crash, followed by the sound of wet potatoes and twigs inside a burlap sack was dropped from twenty feet, an audible thump with a series of cracking noises. Hirsch turned in time to see Vaughter against the alter, adjacent to him a dead body crumpled in an awkward positions, as the gargoyle stared at the group, if a stone  monster had facial expressions, Hirsch swore he thought it looked embarrassed. 
Just after, Twain began touching and prodding the corpse, to Hirsch it reminded him of his childhood…poking roadkill with a stick. 
He walked up closer.
“Ugh….dude… c’mon man, don’t play with that, you’ve no idea where it’s been….don’t want herpes or whatever do you?” Hirsch said to twain touching the corpse. Wolfe, who happened to hear the comment could be seen shaking his head with his hand to his face.