He sat at his work bench, taking apart his rifle. He carefully examined each and every crevice of the gun, cleaning into parts he could barely even reach. He tapped his foot gently on the ground as he worked, almost as if he was trying to keep himself busy. His eyes moved from under his hood towards you as you entered the room, his curiousity grew once he saw you. He grunts and ignores you, continuing to clean his armery.