(It's alright! TBH I thought you were waiting for someone else to reply.)
She had heard that nasty squelch, and winced, though couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at Nate’s misfortune, before quickly covering her mouth in realizing the disrespect she was paying the young man. Better him than her, sure, but she was pretty close to digging through a pile of rubbish half a year ago. Stone had to tell herself not to fiddle with the gas-shooter, as much as she had wanted to, and instead fiddled with one of her knives, partially sheathing and unsheathing it.
No one was coming, it seemed—that or the thief was becoming bored and restless, and therefore not as attentive. She was just picturing how that goop-dispenser of Nate’s would work, when the dark-haired girl realized she could always try more conversation.
“Are you going to make something… I dunno, cool with these magicite scraps?” she offered, scanning the vicinity briefly.