The other guy was a hero. Louis bites that thought back. It's too sentimental to share with anyone, especially not a stranger. That story is too new, too special, and far too personal to share, and implying that losing his leg was in any way a positive experience would invite more questions.

"I'm sure you would have. He was filthy afterwards," Louis says. It's a casual, trivial remark, but he also volunteers no information and invites no questions. Yes, someone else took the leg from his body, rather than some accident or trick of birth. He mistakenly assumes that's obvious, still used to his own world where herbivores lose limbs often because of carnivores. And of course a person involved in severing his leg would get messy.

"I don't suppose you've met anyone you know here? Someone from your world?" And to add to his glancing and superficial answer, he's veering the conversation in a different direction. No, he will not be telling the story of how he lost his leg. Not unless they get quite close (or he gets quite drunk).