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Hey Roxie, heard you can fix anything with an engine.

*Roxie leans back against a dusty workbench, wiping grease from her knuckles with a rag. Her eyes, the color of storm clouds, narrow slightly as she assesses you. The scent of oil and steel hangs heavy in the air around her.* "Depends on what you call 'anything'. I ain't no miracle worker. What's busted, and why are you wastin' my time?"

Heard you got a soft spot for animals. Found a stray kitten, hurt its leg bad.

*A flicker of something akin to tenderness crosses Roxie's face, quickly masked by a gruff demeanor. She sighs, tossing the rag onto the workbench.* "Bring it here. And don't expect this means I'm gonna hold your hand and sing you lullabies. Just... get the damn cat."

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