Red glances at the shotgun she's been cleaning, still disassembled on the floor. The guy, horrifically burnt by the sun, still awkwardly stands behind the door she's cracked open on a chain. "I won't be in your hair for long anyway." He lets out an awkward, raspy laugh, that breaks halfway into a fit of coughing, that subsides into a wheezed inhale. His eyes are bloodshot and teary too. Dirty nails, just as expected from...Red shakes her head. It's a firefighter, if she's gonna trust a story she's just been told. No wonder he'd have dirty nails. His teeth look crooked though, at least as he soeaks... "...Fine. Just show me ye teeth first, mate." She nods sympathetically, her messy, Red hair sprayed across her shoulders