"Don't touch me," Kara snarled as she shrugged off the hand of the guard before it could land on her shoulder. Just because she was short, big guys always thought that she was a pushover or something. She didn't mind, usually. It was better to be underestimated, after all. These ones didn't seem to underestimate her, though, judging from the weapons and tasers she could pick out on their person. She could hold her own in a fight, even when outnumbered, but this time she'd known better than to try and attack. She'd scurried away to hide when she’d learned some people were after… people like her, but someone had ratted her out.

It was probably that weasel Runner, she thought. Lora would find out, and whoever had snitched would have broken arms and legs before they could enjoy the monetary reward they had doubtlessly received. She didn’t know how much had been offered, but Lora had said it was a lot. That was why she had to go to the safe house, she’d said, and had to go in secret. She frowned at the thought. How had Runner found out where she was staying anyway? He must have been eavesdropping again, that was the only option. Otherwise there was only Lora who knew where she was, and there was no way-

Kara cut that thought off before she could finish it and instead focused on the truck that had now fully come to a stop. The doors opened and she jumped out before the guards could try and tell her what to do again, hands shoved into the pockets of her oversized hoodie.  

There were three… people standing in front of the entrance of the biggest house she’d ever seen and another was walking towards the group at the left of her. She snorted when a dude with weird arms welcomed them to their ‘home’. As if they were here by choice. Perhaps some of them were, she thought as she looked over a skinny kid with pale fins and a tail. She could take him in a fight, she decided, and perhaps the weird-arm kid as well. The other two set the hairs on the back of her neck on end, with their sharp-slick lizard scents and bulkier bodies. Best to keep on their good sides. 

“Whatever arm-boy,” she scoffed, brown eyes peering out suspiciously from beneath the hood of the hoodie she wore even in the warmth of the afternoon. She supposed it wouldn’t be necessary to hide her more animalistic features here of all places, and it wasn’t as if she got sunburns with her brown skin, but she welcomed the familiarity. Living on and off the streets had been harsh, but it had been more familiar than being imprisoned in some posh mansion with freaks like her.

“Does ‘welcome to prison’ sound too bad for your taste or what?”