[For once, she doesn't particularly want a fight— she's been seeking them out a hell of a lot less since they've been here, except when there's a job that needs doing or she has a bad mood to blow off, but more than that, she doesn't necessarily want to fight him, even if she's willing to do so to knock some sense into him.

She scowls, shaking her head as she folds her arms in front of her. She can see him loosening himself up, getting ready to throw a punch if he needs to. Is this what it feels like for him, the situation she's put him in countless times since their first heated meeting?

Considering they met fighting, she'd never really given it a whole lot of thought.]

Don't think I've ever heard you talk that way about anyone.

[If anyone deserves it, she figures it probably is her. Her skin is too thick for it to sting the way it might if she were someone else, but it feels wrong coming from his lips, sounds unlike him even though his voice is the most familiar thing to her.]

All this because you want some kind of an apology? Better ways to get one, old man.

[Her brow furrows, and her gaze travels downwards to spot the bright feathers he's already collected and tucked beneath one of his leather straps. She hasn't actually picked any up for herself just yet, but she marches forward and reaches out to pluck one from his small collection.]

Let me see that.