She danced in circles with the usurper. He fired his gun at her. He wasn't a very good shot, obviously. He didn't hit anywhere near her! The sand was a bit much. It got into everything. Unlike snow, which did the same thing, this stuff didn't ever actually melt, it just sort of lingered like a Stalker around a campsite after it had been thrown a few scraps.<br/><br/>The lowdown dirty thief had the audacity to tell her to back away. "Back off? I will not do it! I sssaw it first, I did! You will not take the flesssh! The flesssh is mine! The flesssh is for me!" Being a rat, she obviously believed that the man was not investigating the crash but was preparing to cannibalize the dead. He backed away, she tried to do the same thing and move toward the crash site, so she ended up walking sideways like a Craboid.<br/><br/>As she walked, she slung the SMG off of her back. It was banged up and sloppily built: Bandit tech through and through. "I have sssooo many bulletsss! They will ssspray you dead!"