The figure that started towards her up ahead raised Allison's hackles on principle: unknown, visibly armed, sure and measured stride of someone who knew how to use the gun at her hip.

...a really pretty gun, as the girl drew closer. It tempered a little of the anger--it gave her something else to focus on that wasn't how badly she wanted to bleed someone, it was a touch of the familiar and the safe and the sane.

"I really hope you're not planning on using that gun!" she called out as the girl approached. "'Cause it's gonna be really hard to ask to see it if I'm busy not getting shot!"