"You've wandered into the wrong place, stranger," Jason said, his tone low and menacing as he kept his revolver trained at the intruder. "I suggest you start talking. I've got twitchy fingers."

Jason had just returned from scouting, red bandanna still covering his mouth and nose, when he'd found someone sniffing around dangerously close to the entrance of his hideout. In the darkness, he couldn't make out much, but he assumed this was probably not a bounty hunter, nor anyone affiliated with the law. Those people were usually smarter than to be poking around caves at night. No, this had to be a different sort of idiot. Not terribly unusual for Gotham Gulch.

His blue gaze flickered to a dark trail leading to the intruder, and his eyes narrowed. Blood?

"You injured?" Jason continued gruffly. "Tell me why you're here and maybe I won't throw you to the coyotes."

Despite his threats, if this was just an injured drifter, Jason wouldn't just leave this poor b*stard to die. He was a wanted man, yes, and a bit of an a**, but for all his attempts to distance himself from Bruce's teachings, he was still a bleeding heart deep down. Maybe it was the boy in him who used to roam these very caverns as a child, looking for a place to call home, who made Jason hesitate. Or maybe it was just that attacking innocents would make him no better than the Laughing Man.

A shuffling step forward, and that was all Jason needed to snap out of his thoughts and spring into action. Part instinct, part mistrust. Years of skirting the law had made him paranoid, and it served him well. Far too many people had tried to collect the bounty on his head, and not all of them had been completely incompetent.

"Don't even try it," Jason warned, firing at the ground. The shot echoed loudly in the cave, the muzzle flash lighting the cave entrance for a split second. "Next shot will be for your leg. If you don't want to be crawling out of here, talk. Now."