He admits, with a reluctant shake of his head, and a glance at a sound in the shadows- he points- with his jaw, not with the gun hand, and certainly not the arm cradling Rocco.
"Footsteps. Human footsteps. There are a dozen of us, maybe more."
He isn't going to lend him his gun, because honestly he isn't going to take a single shot unless something is so close as it wouldn't make a difference who's carrying it.
no subject
He admits, with a reluctant shake of his head, and a glance at a sound in the shadows- he points- with his jaw, not with the gun hand, and certainly not the arm cradling Rocco.
"Footsteps. Human footsteps. There are a dozen of us, maybe more."
He isn't going to lend him his gun, because honestly he isn't going to take a single shot unless something is so close as it wouldn't make a difference who's carrying it.