（ talkin' around a cigarette is about as old hat to him as a baby teethin' on a whiskey rag at this point, but he still takes it between his fingers to tap the ash off the end. they ain't filtered, an' this one's faintly crooked from where it's been cached over one ear until he saw fit to light it. seen better days, that's for sure, but it ain't the one he offers out. instead, tuckin' the chipper back in one corner of his mouth, he pulls a foil pack outta his breast pocket.
he taps one up with a practiced gesture, then holds it out for the fella to take it. the battered label on one side says chesterfield. ）
Oh yeah?
（ he ain't got much intention of makin' it a trade. but he knows the game. ）
no subject
he taps one up with a practiced gesture, then holds it out for the fella to take it. the battered label on one side says chesterfield. ）
Oh yeah?
（ he ain't got much intention of makin' it a trade. but he knows the game. ）