He lowered the gun. Good. Megan gave a tense, slow sigh through her nose, slowly lowering her machete in return, so that it hung by her thigh. To show that she wasn't going to make a move for her own gun, her free hand remained half-raised, palm towards him, her fingers splayed. "That's the spirit." With his statement, Megan opted to make a rather risky move: she set her machete down on the concrete floor and shuffled back a half step. "I'm not looking for trouble. Just some tools." That was all the information he needed on the subject, at least until she figured that he was trustworthy.<br/><br/>Talk of a group, however, brought a bit of a somber look to her blue eyes. "Used to. We separated a month back. Got a small camp set up, though." Okay, maybe just a little more information. If she could convince him that she wasn't a threat, then maybe- just maybe- securing a new survival buddy was something in the cards.<br/><br/>That being said, she wasn't about to trust him so quickly. It could spell disaster to rely on a stranger, even if he assured that he wasn't out to hurt her. Megan carefully lowered her hands when she deemed the ticking timebomb of self-defense was sufficiently defused. They moved to hang at her sides- but she reconsidered after a second, and stuffed the hand nearest the pistol instead into the pocket of her coat.