Ianthe, her expression drawn and her gaze hollow, dressed in silence: she gave her fluid-stained body a desultory wipe with her fabric tank-top before discarding it and climbing back into her form-hugging armor, and only suppressing a shiver when the seals cycled. Though she managed something approaching a grateful half-smile for Toi's assistance, she rather pointedly avoided looking at the Camarian, and instead of following the alien woman into the backroom gathered her things and turned her attention to Darion.<span style="color: teal">"I can use a sniper rifle,"</span>she answered him, very softly.<span style="color: teal">"I don't, very often. They're expensive, bulky, fragile, and hard to conceal, and it's harder to confirm a kill from distance. For most jobs a sub-gun, a pistol, a blade, and my mind are all I need. At this point, though, if it helps us get out of here now and I can sell it for credits later, I'll haul it."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>