It appeared as if after three centuries, the president had forgotten his own strength. He held his rifle firmly in both hands, fingers pattering along the wood and metal as he took a second to contemplate what had happened. It wasn't before long that the president took off in an easy jog in the direction he had smacked the girl toward, consciously keeping his rifle from swinging too wildly, barrel facing toward the sky. It was then when he noticed a man and a woman dressed in very different garb, but both definitely adults.

By the hair, Jackson grabbed his Master, pulling her away from the older woman before quickly putting both hands again on his firearm. "Huh. Sorry for the little toss up. I don't reckon neither of y'all have got a spare set of clothes. This young lady seems to have misplaced her own."