[So much for trustworthy, because there sure is a sword coming into play all of a sudden. Snake's hand moves right back to his gun, but he doesn't draw it. Not yet. And while he would never admit that he's nervous- or even disgruntled at this turn of events, there's a minor emotional effect in the form of rustling grass and bushes that implies he must be feeling something.
Either that, or the other guy is feeling something. Yeaaah, it's totally the other guy doing that.]
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Either that, or the other guy is feeling something. Yeaaah, it's totally the other guy doing that.]
Didn't you say it already? I'm Snake.