Silvertip Mountain oh oh feely eyes

she steps near, and clem holds her ground, though discontent swells in her chest. when the woman speaks, however, she relaxes somewhat. "it's alright — I'm not that hungry, and it's pretty, um, neat." she answers, feeling rather defensive of her find. it was whole, and pretty, and she'd come to find that scarab had been on to something with his habit of collecting. "I'm clementine," she offers in turn, "from rusalka." she wants to know where the woman comes from, but is hardly bold enough to ask outright.