Chris had watched the events in interest, and a smile crept over his tight features. He wondered, inwardly, what he would do. As much as he would like to annoy the woman with a keen interest on shooting somebody, he wasn't ready to cause trouble just yet. He'd been on the road long enough to learn not to shut out "clients" based on their skin color, or face, or whatever. Everyone was fair game, according to him. Still, he had no interest in seeing someone get shot. It was bad for business, got everyone on edge, no matter how hardened.

From his travels, he'd picked up some different bits and pieces of different languages. He had no idea what the Native man was saying,[@Vas Khaleen][@bluetommy2], but he had enough sense to know it was French.

[color=007236]"Elle... es...est....partiale."[/color] He said aloud, slyly eyeing the woman with the gun. He thought that was the word for prejudice. He hoped. It was one of the only specific words he knew, and he knew it completely by chance. He could say jail. Gun. Uh...bathroom. 

He flicked his silver coin up into the air and caught it again. He reckoned it'd be the wrong time to ask anyone for a game of blackjack.