Terry looked very confused at all of this happening so suddenly. He had never seen any smoothskins so eager to go out into the Mojave, let alone someplace so full of radiation. He couldn't believe how quickly this ragtag group had banded together. In all honesty, he wouldn't dare even think about joining a group of smoothskins on a journey like this at any point when he was in his right mind.

But then he considered his options. He could stay here, and scrounge away for caps, doing small jobs for... Well, not many people would accept his help these days. So, that left him with finding some new town to help out at, or find work with the Crimson Caravan Company. Right about now he was hurting for caps, thanks to a pair of thugs who caught him off guard awhile back. Sure, the caps would probably be nice in this little 'expedition', but the risk would be massive. In his trips out to the radiated zones, he had seen all manner of terrifying irradiated monsters, that made centaurs look like your everyday person. 

He then turned to the other man, the repairsman. "What did Palmer call you? Dill? Sure, you smoothskins are all the same." He said, a bit offended by the mans comment. "Oh sure, 'A man of my capabilities'. Yeah, we get it. I'm a ghoul, so of course I drink radioactive waste and bask in radiated zones, right?" He said, most of it spoke in a low mutter as he spit on the sidewalk.

Before anyone could respond to his rather out of place outburst, he pulled out his switchblade, running the red stained blade across his palms slowly. "Alright. Before I say anything stupid, like agreeing to join you all on this suicide mission, I've gotta ask. Legion or NCR?" He said, waving his knife around a bit as he spoke, before ultimately pointing it at Dylan, not in a menacing way, more of just putting him on the spot.