Snapping his head up, and staring to the door, the Zebian watched with honed intent as the small, strange little human meandered in... The spines on his back bristling as she had the nerve to sit so close... The large glass drinking mug in his pincer shattering under great force...<span style="color: #660033"> "Little ooman..."</span>He hissed out, voice an obvious product of a universal translator.<span style="color: #660033">"Back at the door, should leave silly toys..."</span>Clicking his mandibles, before folding them back into his 'beak', and closed it.<br/><br/>There was a flicking within his compound eyes. The cybernetic implants that both enhanced his vision, and gave him a stable, constant HUD already screening her through the bounty list he uploaded upon arriving at the station. Pondering the pros and cons of his situation... Unless she was packing Grade-C or higher munitions, he wasn't scared of her guns.<br/><br/>((Grade C being anti-tank and advanced energy weapons, AKA depleted uranium slugs, high-heat sabot rounds, plasma bolts and the like))<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>