"Yes." Laura moves her hand from side to side, watches the way the light catches off her claws -- she's not worried about anyone seeing the reflection and coming to investigate, this part of town's more or less abandoned, and nobody's going to start shit with the two of them anyway. He's a big guy and she looks pretty tough. Still, after a moment she retracts them, but out of sight, they're still in mind -- she is always aware of that weight in her hands and feet.

"We do not always 'get along'." She uses the colloquialism with obvious effort, like she's saying something in a language she doesn't speak, and -- as if that weren't obvious with the way she greeted him with intense, open hostility. That's mild for her, really, if she really hated him, she wouldn't have bothered reining in her temper.