The comment on his height earns a roll of his eyes, but Rocket doesn't look too annoyed. It doesn't involve him being called vermin, something edible, or being threatened with being made into clothing-as far as snark goes, it's a step up.

He nods as York takes a mook down, getting ready to aim himself. "I don't think they're sending the best and brightest." The best and brightest would notice their colleagues seem to be getting nowhere, for instance.

Then he glances over his shoulder and startles a bit-"Hey, tunnel comin' up!" It's not such a problem for the short, but for the average human...