Mark couldnt help but watch the Gunfire scene unfold in front of him...LITERALLY in front of him. He had been right in the Woman's line of Fire, and may of been Shot himself had the Bullet not hit it's correct Target. Mark however hadnt moved at all...since he had somehow figured that, whoever the woman was, She was the better Gunslinger in that encounter...though Mark hadnt heard what the scuffle had been about, and was interested in knowing just what had made their hands move to their Sides...but he wasnt exactly about to ask anyone.<br/><br/>Figuring He may as well quench his thirst before leaving the place, Mark pushed himself off of the wall, and walked up to the Barman, who was still recovering from the shock of the shootout. "...Yo, Mate, you gonna serve me or not?" He said coldly to the BArtender, the difference in Accent clearly noticeable to anyone able to hear, as Mark's British Root's flared.<br/><br/>The Bartender gulped, not wanting to displease this man either, for fear of him being the next one in need of a Doctor. "Y-yes sir! w-what do you w-"<br/><br/>"Water, and it better be fresh..." His hand stroked one of the Two larger Knives he carried with him, making the Bartender even more nervous.<br/><br/>"Y-yes sir! C-coming right up!" The Bartender Rushed off, returning later with Mark's water. He took the glass, and tossed a couple of coins onto the counter, before turning away, glancing around the saloon again.