Her dark eyes widen for a moment when he mentions antlers, but not for the reasons one might suspect. Inhuman beings are no surprise to her; she is one. But she can't help but wonder if those antlers are natural or something new.

"I have enough modifications to last a lifetime," she says, with a metallic tinniness to her naturally breathy voice. Nebula narrows her eyes, and with an increasing harshness to her tone, continues, "If someone tries to add fur, or fins, or anything else to my body, I'll rip that scalpel out of their hands and by the time I'm done with them nobody will know where the body they were born with ends and where their custom hair trot begins."

Trout. The word is trout. Though with the way she's crushing her pamphlets now may not be the best time to correct her.