As Ginovaef approached, HUNK caught the conglomeration of scents clinging to him: the thin, acrid stench of those cigarettes he had always favored, clean skin and hair, fresh water, and the heady scent of another man. It wasn't familiar to him, but it seemed important all the same.
McLeod had caught that scent in the battered pack Ginovaef had brought along with him. That, in combination with the ease with which he conducted himself, was enough to tell him he'll be dealing with a man ready to fight.
HUNK started without preamble. "We'll do some simple sparring. Afterwards, I might have you on the firing range."
Even as he spoke, his eyes tracked the stub of the cigarette. "Pick it up," he commands quietly.