With a stomach full of sprinkle-dogs and looking oddly content as he strolled the celebrations without his purple District Nine shirt, Gannicus soon found himself drawn to the noise of the shooting range. Firearms - even toy ones - are still entirely unfamiliar to Gannicus. Silent and curious, he folded his arms over his bare chest as he impassively watched the man before him as he so expertly sniped target after target after target. It's a skill Gannicus is yet to learn, and now he carefully memorises Wyatt's every movement with the canny scrutiny of a man who knows he has a hell of a lot to learn.

"You have some skill," He rumbled appreciatively, as he stepped up to join Wyatt at the mark in a pause between fresh and old targets.