Biance simply smiled and took it all in. She didn't expect the kid to get it, but Elizabeth was being a bit too dismissive, or dense, maybe. Her remark about "a sexually repressed frigid prude" brought a dry chuckle from the girl's lips, as she twisted slightly. With her bag held over her shoulder, she leveled her gaze back towards the two girls and Franky.
	"[color=9e005d]Nothing wrong with being prepared,[/color]" she retorted, then moved in, crouching until she was eye level with the younger red-head, who all things considered, just looked a year or two younger than her, "[color=9e005d]They usually buy me dinner sweetheart,[/color]" she added, her voice wading in sickly saccharin, the tone somewhere between sarcastic and pandering, "[color=9e005d]and then, I get paid.[/color]"
	Standing straight once more, she indicated the seated Franky with her eyes, whose gaze at her body had not gone unnoticed.
	"[color=9e005d]This guy gets it,[/color]" she fired back, with some allure woven into her voice.
	She then turned to Carter, walking up to him with only mildly veiled annoyance. At this point, Biance didn't notice the younger boy scamper off into the tree line, nor had she seen him looking to the sky. Carter, however- he was exactly what she thought. Definitely a military brat, and the worst kind too- he was stuck up. Or so it seemed. He needed to not take things so seriously, whatever the case.
	"[color=9e005d]As far as I can see, Boyscout, we have all the time in the world. However we got here, we're here. We're not dead at least,[/color]" she retorted, for a moment becoming distracted as she could swear the bases of the tree trunks looked like wall sockets, "[color=9e005d]Why not make the best of it?[/color]"
	Biance's thoughts then turned inward. There was safety in numbers. And no one here really looked dangerous- or at least like Biance couldn't handle them, except maybe Haruka. That one was like a bear with a flower crown. That, and now she had some patsies in case things turned sideways. It was about then when the younger boy approached Carter, and Biance drifted away once again. Her train of thought had downed out anyone else's words, but now she was more receptive. Out of some paranoid need, Biance did a quick headcount. Eight. Still Eight. A slight rustle in the bushes, then, was brushed off (no pun intended) as simply the wind.