Hanna had just been about to say something when the question pops up, his mouth opening and then closing. How did he die?

"Oh. I think I got shot?" He looks down at himself, pulling at his shirt, trying to look between his eyes. "It's a little fuzzy on the details. Like...one moment I'm yelling at a guy for being an asshole and then he pulls a gun." Hanna deflates a little at the thought, his tail even sadly sinking down to the ground, the puddle it's in slowly filling with ink. "Huh...Well, maybe he only had one shot, that's a relief." He hadn't seen any of his companions around, so that was at least comforting.

"What about you?"