Setting
INK
Blinking at what she found to be a very obscure and unexpected response, Henrietta winced and kept her focus. She found the voice to be much younger and less mature then expected, but payed it no mind. Criminals come in all shapes and sizes, of this she was sure. "What the hell do you think you're doing out this late? Are you operating some sort of cartel?" Her eyes shot from his feet to his hair, not recognizing any of the typical signs of a gang member. Tattoos, shaven heads, leather... None of it in sight. She lost only a bit of her suspicion but kept her stance straight. It was a combat one reminiscent of judo, with her right hand a lead fist and left hand just behind it. With her feet shoulder width apart and eyes clued to him, she stated firmly "Talk."