[He nods along with her; she picked up the track of it pretty easily, and he's not at all surprised. He goes back to what he was doing before she showed up, buffing out the corroded bits, only he's doing it the old-fashioned way: with a rag and some sand and a lot of elbow grease.]

Long as it keeps the water out and doesn't build up in the joints, you won't see me complaining. Nearly out of what I packed before this place felt like detouring me through the bloody Fade. [He squints at the bottle, thoughtful.] You don't need it?

[Going by her tone, anyway. He doesn't know what a gun is but, like, he's not about to admit that right here.]