The gun doesn't surprise him a bit. Can't blame a girl on her own for protecting herself. Or anyone, for that matter. He can even approve of how she deals with it-- doesn't try to keep it out of sight, doesn't try to get the upper hand. Now, he knows that ain't her being friendly-- but she's bright enough to know it's time to quit fighting, at least a while. It's a good move, and so he doesn't insist on taking it from her.

"Merle Dixon. And I been a perfect gentleman," he argues, though he's not really arguing, just being a pain in the ass. Once she's settled back down there, he finally takes his eyes off her a minute-- just to sweep the area, make sure there's nothing they need to watch out for, though she's still got her rattling trap to give her a warning.

"You learn to do this after everything?"

Making conversation probably isn't helpful. He doesn't give a fuck.