A good arm, that's funny. Obviously it's not meant as anything, John couldn't possibly tell that one of Bucky's arms is fake underneath the sweater and gloves. Right? Bucky still shifts a little and tugs down the cuff of his left sleeve in an unconscious nervous gesture.

"I'm good with this sort of thing."

Projectiles. Weapons in general. It was pretty much the only thing he was good at now, the skills of the assassin, but he was working on getting back things like social skills and this was another step of that journey.

"So-- you were in the US army, right?"