<div class="floatright">(http://1-media-cdn.foolz.us/ffuuka/board/tg/image/1337/09/1337095155450.jpg)</div>Tiktik glanced at the redhead as she came in after him, a puzzled look on his reptilian face, though the lack of muscles around his eyebrows and cheeks made it hard to decipher for most mammals. Where had<em>she</em>grown up that she talked to him as if he was a person? Was there something wrong with her? Was she deranged? Or had she simply spent too many hours beneath the sun down below the city, allowing her brain to be cooked to the point where she could no longer distinguish the haves from the have-nots? He filed her delicately under "sun-addled", noting the rifle at her back before adding, "dangerous"--though that last tag could be added to virtually everyone here thus far, who all seemed armed to the teeth and ready to inflict damage at the first sign of threat. He wondered to himself what he had gotten himself into, and if he should get out while he was still close enough to his stomping grounds. On the other hand though, there wasn't much in the way of work at the moment, and he could use whatever small payment he could get, even if it meant putting himself in more danger than he liked.<br/><br/>He was about to open his mouth with a clever retort at the woman's words--who was she calling little!? He was about average size for a kobold--did she think he was the runt of the clutch--when the half-elf he had murmured the words to before spoke up, not even acknowledging his presence. This, though, put him more at ease. It was the common way people reacted to kobolds, who often moved unseen and unheard, though not for lack of sight or sound. At her words, challenging the prowess of the others, he bowed his head subserviently, the deeply-ingrained habit taking over. Downcast eyes flitted though, aware and almost insightful as the words passed him and he read between the lines. He glanced at the other two who were there to see if they had picked up on the subtext before flitting his eyes away. Mammals often got angry if one looked at them for long periods at a time, and he would rather not risk a beating if he could help it--not this early in the day.<br/><br/>He spared the other two another glance or three, taking them in more deeply than the first impression; he didn't know Sam's thoughts, but had he, he would have agreed with her. His own clothing was there for a purpose, the light folds of cloth of his desert garb meant to cool his skin in the deep desert while the jerkin underneath served as protection from the many hazards of the desert. The others were an elf and a human--human, half-elf, elf, they ran the gamut of the racial spectrum, as short as it was, between the races. The elf at least wore a boots and a duster, even if the dress beneath the jacket did little to preserve her dignity. He wondered idly how easily it might get ripped during a fight, or if she found herself underground and snagged herself on some rock. Still, the other one seemed to flaunt herself in so little clothing that she might as well have been naked. It was a wonder that her skin wasn't blackened and burned if she commonly wore so little clothing, and he figured that she tended to stay inside. Still, they both wore long, prominent rifles in contrast to the revolvers he and the half-elf carried, and he wondered how much for show they were.<br/><br/>The RPAD in the elf's pocket caught his attention momentarily, and his mind wandered to his own small datapad deep within one of the pockets of his pants, and to the shells of the caster bullets deep within a pouch. A hand moved to them and entered, feeling the clink of metal on metal, the caster bullets keyed to him each pulsing with its own life, ready to unleash its energy in a torrent of sound of destruction. Catching himself, he quickly moved his hand away, and glanced up before looking back down. "Scout," he muttered, and it was true; while he had some skill with the revolver--though far less than what many others were capable of. His greatest asset though was his ability to remain unnoticed, especially in the desert where his scales seemed to almost shift color to match the sands. He also had some other tricks, but those for the most part were more for hiding and running away than fighting, in close quarters or not. Something told him he'd have to use them today, and sooner than could reasonably be expected.