If there's any sound, the ocean breeze and the hubub of the passengers had perfectly concealed it. But Verdant subtly shivered as the needle hit, going through the sackcloth to impact something solid within. Did the sack - or more accurately, the content - also shivered with her? Nearly impossible to tell by sight.

She plucked out the offending bit of metal, biting on the tip as she turned toward the source. It wasn't shot hard enough to injure unless it got into the eye, and she couldn't detect any manner of venom. A prank? Harassment? Didn't know, didn't care. The serpent was cross enough from the prospect of sailing already, that even minor offense could set her off.

Well, minor offense would've set her off even under normal circumstances. But still.

The man in the wheelchair didn't even tried hiding the fact that he'd shot her unprovoked. Motherfucker. Flicking the needle into the sea, Verdant huffed and turned back to survey the last of the boarding passengers. She's not forgiving him, no. In fact, the petty snake already decided to knock out and toss the asshole overboard at a later date. Until then, it's best not to be the only person that's witnessed quarelling with him.