"It's easier when the targets don't move." Natasha admits, but there's a trace of a smile on her face all the same. The pistols have both been placed on the table again, as she pulls a box of ammunition out to reload her gun. Since there's no hurry, she takes her time with the action.

Breathes in the smell of gunpowder and thinks faintly on whether or not she should feel disgusted at herself for relishing in its bouquet. Decides she doesn't really care, either.

"Though, if we're comparing styles, I'd say mine is closer to yours than to the guy I'm usually working with."