". . . . . . . Who eats cereal dry? That's strange."

". . . . . . . . . . I should make tea."

GEKKERS in metal

Flexes. She's surprisngly toned underneath her sweater.

Heng is always up to showing off how built she is. She finds it nice.

". . . . . . . . . . You weren't a Nekomata?"

". . . . . . . Hrm."

She had a bit of a tough fight today. There's a sickening crack as she first forces bone back into place before forcing the arm back into its socket. ". . . . . . . Annoying."

She looks out the window, catching sight of the violence. She wipes scarred and bloody hands on her apron, shaking her head as she returns to her work. The click of pliers and muffled screams fill her ears once more as she prepares gifts for the tooth fairy.

In defiance of the noise outside, she simply turns up the volume of the music in her office. She has work to do after all. music.youtube.com/watch?v=nqGzRz…

" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She was a Yes fan?"

". . . . . . . . . ."

"You cannot put laws upon the shifting sands that are the different worlds, just as humans cannot hope to truly place laws upon us Youkai."

Soft gekkering. There are too many tiger noises.

She's simply . . . . seated in her room, a small table laid out before her with a startlingly array of knives laid upon it.

She sniffs the air. Udon. Perhaps a bowl or two wouldn't hurt . . .

"Mrm."

"Hrm?"

"Hrm. I see."