Vikta eyes her smoothly from head to toe, appraising, pale eyes seeming to be in no hurry.  At the unfinished comment, she allows a wry smirk to creep across her own lips as well, and cinches the last couple of buckles under her arm to tighten the form-fit studded armor to her compact body.  "... no, I'd suppose not.  Despite its advantages.<br/><br/>"I think I<em>will </em>accompany you," she says as she re-sheathes her sword... it sits beside a short bow on her back, and slides home with a soft hiss, barely audible, "Unless you've any objection..."<br/><br/>Clearly some sort of trapfinder or scout, the half-elf begins to pull on smooth, black, kid-leather gloves as she walks with a pronounced, bold sway that would turn heads in most taverns... if not for the curvaceous ass she was swinging under the tight black leather, then for the flagrantness of the gesture.  "I am Vikta," she says, her voice softened and gentle now that she's calmed a bit.<br/>