The questions, seemingly one right after the other, effectively jolt much of that gathering violence out of Roland even as they annoy him. You can kill or you can think. Can't do both, especially with his mind working so slow. And it is working slow; he didn't realize that before now. He'll likely forget it soon. In the meantime he's talking, his mind too busy trying to figure out if it knows the answers to those questions to consider ignoring them.

"The Legion. Pretentious fools who've spent too long in the light. Pretentious enough to insist I use my title. I remember. They sometimes remind me of-"

Why'd he been about to share that? The fact that the Legion sometimes reminds him of of his home is just as needless as the boy's questions. It's not a part of him that particularly needs airing, in any case.

"-of things past. If you'd call me anything, you might as well call my title. Gunslinger. For all the good it'll do you here. Do you think you'll find a question that'll do anything more than prolong all this? What sense is there in asking?"