It's a real weird side effect of this kind of tech, 'cause hell if they make my life easy. [He hits the catch on his gun with his knee and it returns to its at rest state, resembling a thermos or a metal canister more than it resembles a gun, and slides it onto his back.

He's still fixated on her and her appearance, though he's not especially freaked out by it- honestly, it looks more like he's trying to identify her species more than he is trying to consider whether he should be attacking again.

But he shakes it off, and starts walking back to his scrap pile, leaving her to decide whether she runs or risks playing with fire with a temperamental raccoonoid with a sensitivity to being told he looks like dinner.]

Right now? I got a few bombs to replace since the dragon thing. I wasted too many on that rotting piece of shit.