"I'm prepared," she replies, though her gaze drops very slightly to the table in front of her. Her lips thin just a bit. "I've defended myself in the past. I'm not afraid to do so again."
And then she looks up once again. There's a seriousness in her face. Kitty, when she's working at the pub, keeps an expression that's friendly, even sweet, and a little vapid. Her face right now isn't anything like that. It's sharp. Intelligent, too, in a hard sort of way. Her eyes are keen and bright and unblinking. This isn't to say that she looks cruel; no. Far from it. But there's a hard intensity to her. It's not the face of a girl trying to look tough; it's the face of a girl who is tough.
"I'm not afraid of what I might have to do," she says, for once completely honest. "There's very little that I haven't done."
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And then she looks up once again. There's a seriousness in her face. Kitty, when she's working at the pub, keeps an expression that's friendly, even sweet, and a little vapid. Her face right now isn't anything like that. It's sharp. Intelligent, too, in a hard sort of way. Her eyes are keen and bright and unblinking. This isn't to say that she looks cruel; no. Far from it. But there's a hard intensity to her. It's not the face of a girl trying to look tough; it's the face of a girl who is tough.
"I'm not afraid of what I might have to do," she says, for once completely honest. "There's very little that I haven't done."