"Long enough that it won't be coming back until morning," Shepard replies, glancing at Kaz— and then she looks again. Are you sweating? "It's a few hours. The roads are in decent repair, but they're not secure. There's a lot of local creatures that wouldn't mind going after someone who wants to walk the distance."

She's eying him up properly, now. It wasn't that he didn't look tough enough; he did. But it wasn't the kind of tough that hid throwing knives in your sleeves, or had a pistol at your hip. It was the shoe-leather tough of someone life had boiled and beaten and creased and stepped on, and who had gotten up at the end to spit defiance even after all the abuse. Resilient, or stubborn, but either way there wasn't much weakness in what she saw.

Unfortunately, what weakness there was, was the most obvious kind.

"No offense, but you don't look like much of a fighter."