Abigail nodded. She'd never been bothered by dirt. She'd grown up spending a great deal of time outdoors. Her father had insisted on extremely cleanliness when she was an older teen. Later, she realized that had been for covering evidence of his crimes. Hannibal was the same way, though she knew for him it was more than evading the FBI. It had been a part of his fastidious nature.
"I don't have proper ear protection. Are you okay with it being loud?" Abigail asked. She might get ear protection as her next gift from the hotel ghosts. She wanted to use her rifle now though. After her father's death, the FBI had taken her things. She never thought she'd see the rifle again, let again fire it. Today was a good day. As long as her new friend wasn't put off by the sound or the flash. She had a sense it would be okay. Maze came across as very resilient.