"I didn't say that," Dean narrowed his eyes at her. She was a nut case, but she seemed harmless enough. At least, she wasn't a zombie, and she wasn't a Croat. She could be any number of things. A demon, a shape shifter, dozens of creatures could mimic human mannerisms. He had a feeling she was just a scared girl.
"But I'm not going to give you one of my guns if you can't handle it properly. I don't want to come back and find out you've shot yourself in the foot or something." He hadn't meant to insult her, and the fact he had went right over his head. His interpersonal skills had deteriorated over the years.