[ vi takes the compliment – or observation – with no significant reaction. a softly grunted mm is about as far as she goes with acknowledging it. she’s far more interested in finding this knife than she is in doing something stupid like preening over being called strong.

crouched on the ground, she’s less hesitant in getting dirty as she digs through low-growing brush and pushes aside mulch. ]

I’ve got some hefty knuckle dusters. [ she supposes they could be called a family heirloom, though she doesn’t think she quite deserves being gifted them. she flicks at some leaves with a heh. ] Not with me, of course.

[ she pushes dirty hands to her knees and stands up, walking over to another patch to crouch and do the same as before. ] Punching shit suits me fine. [ a beat. ] Means I never have to play hide and seek with my gear.

[ she’s teasing okay. ]