The Bounty Hunter stopped laughing after a while, glancing over the groups around him seeming to already be divided into factions. All of them looked very strange to him, and the noble warrior thought they were all going to propose a comedy play to key-boy, over there. He seemed to be the host of this forest get-together. He now started to think if he was in another region with different cultures, which would explain the ridiculous looking armor, clothes, and weapons. One caught his eye in particular. A group that seemed to be made up of men and women alike with household appliances as weapons....A handbag, a book and a dagger that looked like it could be hung up over the Bounty Hunter's mantle at his home. He glanced upon them for a few seconds, one of his hands twiddling with the rope of his hookslice.
He sighed as he saw another individual of the group, full metal blue armor which would not hide him at all with no apparent weapon on him. As he did not consider the cannon arm a weapon, he more saw it that the boy was wounded or was assaulted by maggots in the past, something like that. The helmet was ridiculous looking to him, as Bounty Hunter goes by the motto that the last thing you want the enemy to see it any sense of regret on your face, thus you should hide your entire face in combat thus the helmet he had. Which the blue armored boy covered himself head-to-toe EXCEPT the face. Truly he is in amateur in dueling, as after a while the enemy will gain confidence if they sense a look of uncertainty on your face. Which then caused Bounty Hunter to question why he wore his helmet all the time anymore, as his emotion just gradually changed to a black dreadful stare, all the time. He can't remember the last time he smiled!
Then again, the handbag girl only had a bonnet. A cocky choice indeed, but maybe the purse contained some kind of ranged weaponry? Bounty Hunter looked from afar and shaped both of hands to look like a picture frame over the purse, measuring it. He looked through the square with one eye for more precise measurements, then putting one hand to stroke the part of his helmet where his chin would be, and the other hand on his hip "A folded crossbow, perhaps..." He thought to himself aloud. The group then started to move. The hitman not wanting to miss an opportunity to study his possible enemy, he quickly followed in hot pursuit, pulling out his axe if any smart-ass had the idea of ambushing him in his studies. He rolled stealthily from tree to tree, bush to bush without a sound, stroking the axe blade every few roles to appease the stress of sneaking around. His eyes squinted as he occasionally looked up from the bush/tree to follow where they were going.