This catches Mildmay unawares. He nearly shouts: "Why didn't you fucking tell me he was..." Mildmay looks back to Donatello. Besides tall, green and scaly, Mildmay had not really taken much in the way of observation. After a moment, he says, in a slightly softer, slightly more perplexed, tone: "...a turtle?"

What the fuck, this place is so fucked up, everything is awful. He is blushing bright red up to his roots in embarrassment. "Sorry," he says, after a moment. The knife goes back into his boot with a quickness that betrays his skill, but he doesn't think anyone will notice. Mildmay doesn't really think a fucking turtle would know much about fighting.