Moonspear we're gonna die young.

"I guess not."  She was smart enough to avoid such situations, though on that point she did hold her tongue.  Good girl, Roz.  A veritable saint.

"Such language." She tsked lightly, dropping down to lounge in an easy and languid parody of a sphinx's repose.  She fell silent as she stood again, managing a surprising few inches.  Hell, it was shocking she'd found her paws at all.  "Heading home then? Don't let me keep you."  Her tone was innocent, but the jab intentional.