Utterly Mad

Ivan's sudden appearance followed by his invasive odor startles Seb, his hackles raising slightly, but he dare not say anything untoward or make any aggressive sounds.  There was no way he was going anywhere with that man again until he'd had a very long wash.  Going on ops with a larger group than he was used to was stressful enough.  Didn't need people smelling ****ing rancid at the same time, attracting all kinds of attention. 

He hefts the massive revolver up with one paw as it was offered, the grip comfortably filling his grasp.  He opens the cylinder and stares down the empty chambers, gently spinning the cylinder around as he does so.  Pushing it closed, he lifts it up testing the weight and sighting down the barrel, noting the accessory rail on top. 

"Good sights...heavy and balanced slightly towards the front of the barrel." he mutters.  Pulling the hammer back, he dryfires, the trigger pull smooth and crisp with a surprisingly short reset.  The kind of trigger you'd find on a match-grade firearm for competition purposes.  A real masterwork.  A subtle grin spreads across his muzzle as he turns the pistol over once more in his paws, and he can't help but notice how well the weapon fits him.  Being a big wolf-man, it was difficult finding handguns that fit his paws well, but this was just about perfect.  It made him a little nervous thinking about using this thing one-handed like he did with his Anaconda on occasion to great effect, but it might be doable considering it's weight. 

Slipping the Bear back into it's holster on the table, he glances over the spread of rifles.  "Wouldn't happen to have a can for any of these, would you?"  He gestures across the lined-up muzzles of each rifle to emphasize his point.