As exasperated as Gil is with the whole thing, his ears perk up as the dwarf starts interrogating her targets. Quietly, he slips a slingshot that wouldn't look out of place in a child's hands out of a pocket - if things are going to get nasty, he's probably going to wind up involved somehow, and it might as well be from a long way off for as long as he can manage. Gil's knives aren't exactly for decoration, but they're seldom his first resort, and often serve as camouflage more than anything else.

"I know Roscoe can handle himself," he replies to Vivian quietly. "I'm just saying he's not so great on the whole self-preservation thing sometimes."