Okay, shitty shortpost.
Would've said something about leaning into Gabbie's pit, but not sure how pit-like it is.
"Awwww. You wanna be a real boy..." She teased as her wrist twisted in One's hands and managed to pry-out his knife.
Her other hand, still firm on the Bastard-'Mosin, wrapped itself around the tin-plated-boy's arm and pressed the muzzle gently against her assailant's neck.
"Now you're probably asking yourself: 'Did she switch to a fresh magazine before I could grab her?' And my answer is: Do you feel lucky, chrome-face?"