[center][h2]Kitsune[/h2][/center]

Her first instinct was to punch the figure as it began to rise out of her shadow. It was only caution that held her back, the uncertainty of who or what it was she was dealing with, whether or not it was a threat, but it was a close run thing; if it [i]was[/i] a threat, better to be on the offensive than not, but the deciding factor was the fact that though she was confident in her skills Kitsune doubted her ability to beat up a shadow. Better to play it safe for now.

Safe, in this case, meant shifting into a loose fighting stance as the stranger bowed to her, angling her body she had one shoulder and one foot in front of the other; ready to react without looking overly threatening. Bad jokes and an introduction followed, the name Grim being thrown out, but it told her nothing; she had, unfortunately, never paid much attention to the heroes and villains of the city she lived in despite arguably being one herself. It had never seemed important, never expected it to matter in her small corner of the city where she stopped late night robberies; clearly she was mistaken. She had no idea whether the person in front of her was a hero or a villain, a saviour or a psycho.

A shadowy hand rising from the ground beside Grim had her body tensing, fist clenching; even more so when the hand opened to reveal a knife. But it wasn’t being brandished threateningly, it was being presented; the same knife that had cut a line across her ribs a few minutes, still with her blood staining the edge. It gave her pause, even more so at Grim’s next words.

Would the police run a blood test on a knife found at a random crime scene to find out who she was? Even if they did, would that be enough for them to figure out what she was spending her nights doing? She assumed not, someone like her was hardly important enough to warrant the effort, but she couldn’t be sure. Something to keep in mind the next time this happened. The last thing she needed was attention from the police.

Still, as much as she appreciated the advice, if that’s how she chose to take it, she wasn’t going to let this person know that. The mask hid her face and the frown she wore, and when she spoke she tried to keep her voice as unconcerned as possible. “Half the heroes in this city don’t even bother to hide who they are, or work for the police themselves. I’m not worried.”

Her hands unclenched then, body relaxing as she remembered that she was still tensed up for a fight. “Vaguely threatening warnings aside; what do you want?”