[He grits his teeth under thinned lips and whips his handgun out in a flash, aiming and firing at her, if not for her ugly mug, then for the fact that somewhere, someone is probably dead. Someone who is possibly young and in need of help. But the thought occurs to him, in this moment--
no subject
Maybe he's very under-prepared for Lucetians.
And that whatever she is, it sure isn't human.]