Bullets don't distinguish between tough and weak.

People imagine it as a great border wall, a one-time solution to protect humanity forever. Whereas it's more like a torn-open trash bag taped over a busted window.

V: You do know that grenade's gonna pop one of these days, right? I avoided, but someone else...
Ozob: I know, I know. We will die someday. Least when I do, there'll be fireworks.

Guess even pneumatic arms can't lift morale in a toxic workplace.

He quenches his thirst at the watering hole. While waiting for your arrival, he takes shelter in the shade of the cherry blossoms. The fox is cautious. It shall emerge when it is sure that the water was not poisoned.