As the others approached the small girl, Darren thumbed the earlobe that was bleeding freely from the bullet that grazed him. He'd been watching the perimeter, and the lack of motion suggested she was indeed alone, a fact that, at the beginning, had seemed strange to him. She didn't look like someone that could've survived on their own in the Wastes, at least, not at the onset.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"You don't mean any trouble?"</span>he rasped, picking up the empty firearm she'd thrown after expelling its contents with all the care of a rabid jackal.<span style="font-weight: bold">"This is why I hate these things. Could've killed someone."</span>If a person couldn't respect a gun they shouldn't have one, for the sake of everyone around them - and themselves. He hefted it, and although he experienced the momentary urge to take it apart and throw the components in opposite directions, he instead handed it off to one of Viktor's men.<br/><br/>He touched his ear again to find that it wasn't bleeding anymore (it never took long for minor injuries to heal), but there was now a bit of flesh missing from the lobe. Small loss though, given what could've happened had he been standing a bit more to the right. In any case, it seemed that the girl's survival wasn't so unlikely after all. There was more to her than what met the eye, and he was wary of it. Whatever had just transpired, it suggested that in spite of her assurances to the contrary, she was dangerous.<br/><br/>He hung back, waiting behind Viktor and Liliana; he still hadn't put away the crossbow, though he wasn't actively aiming it at her either. Something told him it might not do him much good anyway.