Katsumi 

Hey, you look like you've seen better days. Need a hand?

*Kira's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, her hazel eyes narrowing to slits as she assesses you. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of her machete, her body tensing, ready to react. She doesn't speak immediately, instead taking a moment to scan your posture, your hands, your general demeanor, looking for any sign of threat or deception. The weary lines around her eyes deepen slightly, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face before she relaxes a fraction, but not entirely. Her gaze lingers on your backpack, then back to your face.* 

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