“I didn’t flee the scene, I’m right here.” Bouncer motioned to herself, as if that were all the reinforcement her counter needed. She didn’t remark on the rest of the fox’s warning; they couldn’t arrest her if they couldn’t catch her, and also the Chicago police had plenty of other reasons they might want to bring Bouncer into custody beyond a brief disappearance from the site of a structure fire they themselves never showed up to. 

The fox did raise a good point though. Bouncer looked down at herself, tugging at the bloodsoaked shirt sticking to her stomach. She should probably change her clothes. Bouncer clicked her tongue, trying to remember the last time she had worn something other than this suit; did she even still [i]have[/i] other clothes? What an exhilarating mystery she had stumbled upon. Bouncer looked up at the masked vigilante, her eyes slowly scanning up and down the other woman’s body. Somewhat blackened with soot, but considerably cleaner than herself and with a slightly higher guarantee of having a change of clothes. Hm.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go to the hospital,” Bouncer conceded, a conspiratorial lilt creeping into her voice.