"Uhh, yeah. Shore." He's trying not to stare at the young lady now, the situation having only grown exponentially stranger. "We kin step aside some. I'm feelin' a need to smoke comin' on anyhow. Uh, I mean, unless that bothers y'all? I guess since yer a breather now." He shouldn't have said that. She apparently doesn't know the full circumstances of what she used to be. Will be? Supposed to be? The fumble is only making the itching desire to smoke that much more urgent, though. There's a fresh pack of cigs in his back pocket that he was picking up for a gang member, but now he might have to dip into it himself. Cigars aren't gonna cut it.