He curbed the impulse to roll his eyes, instead taking the time to refill his gun. These were children's toys - perfectly quirky and touchy and not at all like the guns he was wearing in that they wouldn't drop a man if he unloaded the whole clip into them. He had never actually used them before having gone from street sneak to street punk without any intermediate stage.

"Mebbe... Depends on what you're offering," he replied, glancing at Snow. The guy was big, far bulkier and taller than he was. He looked more like the type that preferred to beat things with his hands instead of using a gun.

He flipped the rifle closed and aimed without really looking like he was, the motion so ingrained from years of practice. The animation of the targets picked up but he was already picking them off.