March also doesn't think he should be the one hunting, so he's not going to take Bigby's initial words too personally, though there's a mutter of an affronted 'oh thank you very much' that he can't resist.

He brings a hand up to run down his face, smudging his cheek in the process, and then he swings around so he's fully facing Bigby from his spot. He likes Bigby. Cool guy. Reasonable guy. He wants a cigarette just by looking at the other but he's made a point of trying to slow down on what (very little) he has left and to not smoke in the community areas, so he's going to just have to quietly suffer instead.

"What else should I be doing?" He's genuinely asking, if how his eyes are desperately trying to search Bigby's face is any indicator. "I got a gun, I know how to use it."

That's it. That's his skills. March's upper lip curls as he realizes just how sad that probably sounds.