[Officially the strangest conversation she's had here. Maybe the most honest, too. She's been pretty up-front with Clark, but there's nothing hunted about him, not the way there is about this guy. She's not really one for regaling anyone with her horror stories at the best of times, but being honest? That she can do.

Her hands still on the knife. The enamel in its handle is chipped, and there's a bit of blood - long dried - that's trapped in the cracks. She pulls her shirt sleeve down over her hand to rub at it. As if that'll erase it.]

I don't just run around killing whoever, you know, at the drop of a hat. But... the place I'm from, sometimes there's no choice. Them or you.