Briar liked to be aware of her surroundings, even if she didn't show it. This honed skill was something she took pride in, and for good reason. You live the first decades of your life where just existing makes you second class and any survival skills are badges of honor.
This time was no different. The man was quieter than a good portion of the patrols - including Zander but silence wasn't really his priority, apparently - but she still heard him. Kept her eyes shut though, still as a statue with the rough bark of the tree pressing into her skull even through her knit beanie.
She had assumed he was on Border Patrol or up to something possibly 'illegal' like she was. Possibly because the thing she had given her friend was definitely stolen, but possibly because the person she stole it from had stole it as well and at that point does it really count?
The hand on the opposite side of him had moved over to her hip near one of her knives before she recognized the voice. The grumpy bookshop owner who dropped into the pub every now and then. Threat Assessment put him at minimal in a fight, much higher outside of a brawl. Still. She was on edge, so the hand stayed even as her eyes remained closed, "That is hands down the least complimentary way I've been called tempting." Came the dry retort, along with a half grin that made her wince as it pulled at the cut on her lip. Her mind scrambled for his name before she dredged it up, sluggish and unwilling to stop mentally pacing like a dog with nothing to bite when it desperately wanted to, "Why, you writing a book?"
There was a vague hand wave from the one closer to him, "Leave that part out."