Trixy thought on his words as they passed through the halls and made their way to the elevator that the Englishman spoke of. She pushed the down button and crossed her arms as the elevator descended, balancing her weight on her right heel so that she faced him slightly. “You must be a soldier, as we see combat differently. In the combat I’m used to, mistrust is everything, because the moment you start to trust the people or your environment is the same moment you can be ambushed.”

The elevator doors opened with a mechanical [i]’ding ding’[/i] and Trixy stepped out first. “Trust isn’t safe when you have worked alone for close to six centuries.” She said, giving the slightest hint to her age, as she wasn’t ashamed of it as some women were. They finally reached the laboratory and Trixy felt as though she could drain a full grown man. 

Her nose led her to a chilled box of blood packets and she made is disgruntled face when she looked at them. One, they were cold, and two; they smelled strongly of antiseptic and plastic with the faintest hint of blood. “They can’t be serious…” she said as she plucked one up between two fingers, as if it were a piece of trash.