Sure. [Could she sound any more confident? Chances are probably not, tongue briefly pressed to the tip of an eye tooth, attention flicking away from him to the locals milling about with fixed stares.

She's not even thinking when she reaches up to scratch the itch that's prickling away at her cheek, feels the tacky draw of warm blood as she realizes it was one of the still-raw scratches from their unpleasant arrival. All it earns is a quick pause spent wiping it away via rubbing a few fingers together, ruddy smudge on her cheek still stuck where it'd been left off.] Even if these people don't meet the criteria, one of us might. Power's got a way of screwing with heads; someone's gotta keep it all in check.

Keep decent, innocent folk safe where it counts.