Honestly, it humorous that he was angry with her. He was lucky she hadn't challenged him herself, shot him, and took everything. Apryl had half a mind to do just that before the somewhat scantily clad drifter in the black duster had beat her to it. It was amazing how plans had to change on the spur of multiple moments on a fast paced world like Eastwood.<br/><br/>One thing Apryl didn't fool around with was people attempting to shoot her, if you drew your gun at her, you were a target. And the red revolver she carried with her may have had no mark, but she knew how to handle the creaky old thing and deal with all its mood disorders better than anyone else in this world. When she aimed the gun, it looked like her aim was low by a mile and that she was unable to keep her arm straight, but the thing had kickback that could break a mules leg. It fired fast, but one had to keep their elbows loose and aim low, and every shot after the first required a quick adjustment.<br/><br/>She was about to kick a table over and start shooting just to prove a point when everyone's attention was diverted to the real deal. He asked a question, and a bunch of her targets answered wrong, ending up dead before she ever got a chance to test herself. To tell the truth, she was perfectly fine with that, as she never felt all too sure of herself and was afraid of getting wounded. The gold gun went in her holster, but she decided to keep the gun she was actually comfortable firing in her hand.<br/><br/>This real deal wasn't to bad looking if you overlooked some of the scars gracing his skin, and the red hair was certainly not an unwelcome touch. Still, Apryl was no crass showgirl, she didn't take too kindly to inuendo of that kind and didn't intend to humor him even if he was the real deal.<br/><br/>"Mister, you just saved me a boat load of trouble, much obliged," she said, "You may be the real deal, but that's all the more reason to be a man and blow off your own damned barrel."<br/><br/>She knew his kind, show a little fear and they walk over you, especially if your a woman. She turned her back and started walking to the coat rack to retrieve her trench coat. A hand rested on her golden loot, it had to be worth enough once pawned to keep her living easy for a year, or enough to keep her gambling for a week. It was time to get out of town, and if anyone besides the real deal wanted to get smart and pull a rod on her she swore shoot him square between the eyes with the red gun before anyone knew what was going on. It was self defense, it was. As much as she didn't like murder these reprobates were asking for it, and it was less risky than trying to be sweet and shooting a gun out of their hands.<br/><br/>Hopefully, she wouldn't be around long enough to see the real deal get dragged down the stairs to the back and manhandled by a duo of catty women and one curvy star.<br/><br/>Then again, if the gun was a steady shot, maybe she'd keep it..... nah!