Sunil resisted the urge to just slump onto the rough, dusty ground and just curl up into a foetal position and sob himself to an uncomfortable sleep, and instead decided to wait for Garry to recover from his own torment and decide to take control again. Instead, he continued staring blankly at the ground, a glassy, blank look in his eyes and an unreadable expression on his face, the sounds of the group's heated conversation behind him not registering at all.
However, Sunil did not have time to mope about and mourn Rena's demise and the continuing deterioration of his circumstances any further, as shortly afterwards the brown-haired boy decided that he had the God-given right to interrupt their quiet reflection and begin waving a gun about like some cocky psychopathic dickhead.
Sunil's first reaction was to immediately stare at the gun (partially to double-check that it wasn't just a banana painted silver or the bastard had done some other fucked up trick like that, but mainly because a gun being pulled out of nowhere and aimed in your general direction was very likely to catch your undivided attention and put all other concerns to the back of your mind), jump up in the air and let off a string of muttered profanities (consisting of Sunil just saying "fuck", "shit" and various derivatives in whatever order came to mind). What added insult to highly-probable injury was that the douche with the gun was talking like sending him and Garry running off like obedient little puppies was for their own protection.
The obnoxious, self-righteous douche.
However, before Sunil could make his rather strong opinions on the gun's owner known, the kid decided that giving them an opportunity to talk their differences out like civilised, reasonable adults and part ways amicably was not an option, and just casually fired a shot at the ground.
A bullet dived into the ground an uncomfortably close distance from Sunil, sending a massive jolt of fear and panic shooting through his body, and his lack of fluid intake over the past few days the only thing preventing him from pissing his pants like a scared baby. His first reaction was to quickly check his body for any unusual sensations or unwanted holes that signalled that the shot had rebounded off the ground and hit Sunil's body. Once he was sure, he hadn't been hit, his second reaction was to begin addressing Aaron in less than friendly terms, making Garry's comments seem calm, rational and polite by comparison.
"YOU FUCKING CUNT! WHAT THE HELL'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM? WE GOT ENOUGH FUCKING PROBLEMS AS IT IS WITHOUT YOU FIRING YOUR BULLETS AT US, YOU CUNT-GUZZLING DICK-NOBBLER!"
Sunil, even in his agitated, emotionally-vulnerable state, knew better than to charge a pretentious dick with a gun and shove his collar up his rectum, despite the temptation to do so, but he really would love nothing better than to see a five-tonne weight inexplicably fall from the air and land on his ugly, cock-sure head, or a giant bear to burst out of the trees and begin mauling the nasty waste of oxygen to pieces, but alas, that was not going to happen. Sunil's luck had not been good lately.
So, instead, when Garry, who had been able to get back down to Earth at a much quicker rate than Sunil after both being shot at and dealing with the painful messages on the announcement, suggested they leave the area and go do whatever elsewhere, Sunil begrudgingly followed him, a scornful eye on Aaron until he left his field of vision.
((Sunil Savarkar continued in House Made of Sticks