[ It carries on for a while, like Natasha hasn't noticed (or just doesn't care). Her fingers are slender, tapered and precise as they work their way through, respooling her kit. It doesn't take long, just repetitive until she can tug on it a few times. She's looking down the barrel of one of the pieces to her glock when she says, mildly: ]
no subject
Staring is rude.