Sergeant - ? So this is one of the Admiral's? For a moment, Kitty just stares, not knowing what to think. This isn't...a creature of the natural world, she's almost certain - because her limited contact with worlds beyond her own through that pilfered communication link demonstrated that humans are the only real life out there. No aliens. No spirits. So that means genetically manipulated, right? Like the Night Police, the special forces that New London uses against their own people, with wolfish loyalty and wolfish fangs sewn right into them - by science, not by magic like her people had always been led to believe. This creature doesn't look like them: she's too huge, too strong, too feral, her features too outsizedly animalistic. The Night Police are stronger than the average person on her world, but they couldn't possibly stand up to something like this...So if it's not nature that created this monster - this sergeant - before her, then it was genetic manipulation. But whose...?
Kitty takes her eyes off of Taura to turn a swift, hard stare upon Naismith. Her gratitude towards him is considerable. Her gratitude will be staggering if he manages to dislodge her government. But, God above, if he's the sort of man who would put human beings under the knife to make monsters, then she won't abide him being in power, either. He'll be next on her list, even if it rends her heart to turn on him. And yet...The hardness lasts only a moment, because the affection with which Taura is treating the Admiral is palpable. And it's not the sort of affection a trained dog turns on her master. It's wry. It's flirty. It's the affection of a human being for another.
And speaking of human beings -
"Oh - " She's been silent an awkwardly long moment, consumed by the process of understanding Taura, Naismith, and Taura-and-Naismith. And Kitty, no matter her savage determination, has manners enough to feel flustered at that rude pause. So, with her cheeks a bit pink, she gives an awkward, stilted little curtsy. "Erm - it's - awfully nice to meet you, ma'am." No, wait - "Sergeant." Better? Worse? God knows. She tries to draw herself up and seem impressive, as an employer ought to seem. Unfortunately, her best model of authority is her schoolteachers, and so she just ends up sounding a little stuffy. "That was terribly impressive work." And then she bites her lip just a little bit and glances from the corner of her eye at the Admiral, for some sign of yes that's authoritative-sounding or you sound like a complete loon, Ms. Jones.
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Kitty takes her eyes off of Taura to turn a swift, hard stare upon Naismith. Her gratitude towards him is considerable. Her gratitude will be staggering if he manages to dislodge her government. But, God above, if he's the sort of man who would put human beings under the knife to make monsters, then she won't abide him being in power, either. He'll be next on her list, even if it rends her heart to turn on him. And yet...The hardness lasts only a moment, because the affection with which Taura is treating the Admiral is palpable. And it's not the sort of affection a trained dog turns on her master. It's wry. It's flirty. It's the affection of a human being for another.
And speaking of human beings -
"Oh - " She's been silent an awkwardly long moment, consumed by the process of understanding Taura, Naismith, and Taura-and-Naismith. And Kitty, no matter her savage determination, has manners enough to feel flustered at that rude pause. So, with her cheeks a bit pink, she gives an awkward, stilted little curtsy. "Erm - it's - awfully nice to meet you, ma'am." No, wait - "Sergeant." Better? Worse? God knows. She tries to draw herself up and seem impressive, as an employer ought to seem. Unfortunately, her best model of authority is her schoolteachers, and so she just ends up sounding a little stuffy. "That was terribly impressive work." And then she bites her lip just a little bit and glances from the corner of her eye at the Admiral, for some sign of yes that's authoritative-sounding or you sound like a complete loon, Ms. Jones.