Keith was compelteley unprepared for the kick which hit his sternum hard, but he shrugged it off, figuring it was his fault being so quiet when approaching a person, a fight or flight response was to be expected. when she put her leg back down and apologized, he took his turn to chime in<br/><br/>"It's okay, I should've been more careful. My name is Keith"<br/><br/>He didn't intend to go sit next to her, he went back to his own seat, which he could still see and hear her from, should she want to keep talking, but he didn't sit, he didn't like sitting. When she asked him about the tournament, he nodded<br/><br/>"I've been . . . away for a while and figured I needed some R&R, and I always recover best when giving black eyes"<br/><br/>While Zebel wasn't bashful at all, Keith, oddly enough, was very bashful, and not sure how to take being looked at in such a way. He figured she was sizing him up for battle, looking for weakness in any way she could find, bad posture, a slight wobble in a knee, a bad scar somewhere, but she would find nothing. Keith's body was a medical marvel in the sense that no matter what tortures he endured, car wrecks, street fights, anything, he always made a full and complete recovery. His body healed incredibly fast, no matter what.<br/><br/>Her comment about the train made him nod<br/><br/>"I enjoy being early, I don't like to feel rushed"<br/><br/>He ate some more of his pizza, letting her take the conversation, when, just before she could speak, he heard the low rumble of the train in the distance