[@Lunar]

Clay scoffed in his defeat and lowered the gun. He was now sweating profusely and had the shakes. [i]'is this the one who poisoned me and set the traps?'[/i] he thought to himself as he smiled and the click of his trigger gave way a thunderous [b]'BANG!'[/b] as a round exploded out the barrel spraying shrapnel across the floor in the direction of her feet.
Suddenly lunging forward he snapped up a near empty bottle in his crippled bloody hand and spun around loosely swinging it at his attackers head.

Clay would worry who she was when he had the upper hand, until then he wasn't safe. His insides still burning from the concoction in his drink and his left hand a bloody mess from the trap. 
As soon as he got the space he would try reload the gun and take aim, should his attacker give him the chance.