random wee bit of absolutely nothing
She walks coolly down the corridor, moving her head to check on both sides of her. The gnawing pain in her hand from where the .22 bullet had hit her just an hour before doesn’t distract her from the task at hand. She had torn a strip of her grey shirt, now hanging ragged to her waist, and bandaged it herself. Then she had tucked the pistol in her jacket pocket and moved on. If it was a fight they wanted, she wouldn’t mind indulging them.