I'm all right. Hold onto it in case we need it later.

[Or sooner, because here he can see a trio of that strange alien gang walking just past the door, looking hungry for something to shoot at. One in the center is a huge, hulking brute that could be mistaken for a bear with thumbs except for the lack of fur, and Rosinante can only guess that the big cannon-looking gun he's carting along with him is the most nightmarish of pulsefire flamethrowers. The two flanking him are more human, might even be human under all that wild spiked armor made of repurposed metal and bone.

They can't hear him outside there, but he still holds his breath a moment. For now, they walk past, but...]

If those three turn around, we're in trouble. Guessing they're looking for easy targets but-

[Yep, just the next building down, probably. He can't see them anymore, can't hear past the sound barrier if they're laughing or if anyone's screaming for help, but the glow of blue against the street says plenty about what's going on over there. Maybe they're just torching a building for fun? Maybe that's all it is.]