[ She's not so much of a people person herself — at least, she tries not to be. That always makes it harder, getting to know others. Getting attached to them. It's a cliché, and she knows it, but when you've lived as long as she has, you get used to doing what you have to do to make all that damn time just a little more bearable.

Admittedly though, she finds it harder to keep her distance when she feels a certain kinship. When there's someone strong, someone who's willing to fight. That always sparks something inside her, something that was passed on from her mother and her mother's mother — that warrior's spirit. ]

Hopefully we'll keep the emergencies to a minimum. My fucking wardrobe won't survive this on a daily basis. [ Her cigarette bobs up and down at the corner of her mouth as she talks, words shrouded in smoke. ] Do you have a name?