There's a story to that kind of sharpness. There always is. Especially as a shield that comes up that fast at the crack of a voice. That she's betting usually doesn't drop a flicker. They're two of a kind in that. Not that anything about her says that right now. But hers is precisely what it's supposed to be — the very opposite of his — unassuming.

Or more able to fall into other people's assumption of its simplicity of it.
Small, slender, with long blonde hair and an easy enough expression. "A few days."

Then, "I was actually looking for a bar. Any suggestions?"

She loves bars. Even if she isn't in one as much as she was for the first two decades of her life, there's not much that doesn't pass through them. Stories, people, names to know and not know, word about what's actually happening, once you weed out the drunk and the stupid for whatever crumbs of truth you can use to your disposal.