The way Frank's hand moved to his pocket as he turned his head, back moving instinctively to protect the downtrodden stray before he'd even met her gaze should have answered her question. Maybe he wasn't walking around with a handgun but he wasn't foolish enough to go out unarmed.

No gun in that pocket though. Just an oblong bulge too thick to be a phone that she could guess he'd prefer using up close.

"Heh." Rough luck Frankie boy. He ducked his head and moved to stand, straightening up to meet her at eye level. Even though he looked shit tired, if she came for a fight he'll bring it straight to her face.

"What's it to you? Granola or- whatever?" Granola, Gondola. Same thing.