No, she's not good at waiting, but Clarisse is doing her fucking best not to make it obvious that they're up to something. She'd love to pace, get her blood flowing a bit before they start, but that would be too noticeable. Instead she leans back against a post, idly rubbing the calluses on her fingers with the pad of her thumb.

Her gaze darts from the two men to Katia, who seems apologetic. Clarisse gives her a shrug, no worries. She's waited for missions to start with far more annoying companions, many of them her own siblings. This is fine.

"She's right," she says, figuring it'll look better if they talk a bit. Kind of weird to have four people waiting around in silence, right? "And then you won't be able to grow it back."