Still sitting down, Mal coughs suddenly as dust blows up in his face. Not from the guns, but from the table. Seems everything's covered in it. "Might have to clean that too, once I'm done," he says mostly to himself.

But then the sound of feet scuffling as someone approaches to lean against the door draws his attention. He looks up briefly to see who it is. "Not sure who you mean," he replies, before looking back down at his work.