She wrings her hands as she waits for him to get his "tool".  When he shoots out the door, there is a bit of surprise as he was the smooth one that didn't do violence first, but then it was effective and thoughts of Miss Kit flood her.  She rushes in and checks all the cat's normal hiding places.  No cat.  She whimpers a little with worry, but realizes worry will not help this along.<br/><br/>She rushes into her room and goes straight for the items she needed for a shower.  She lived alone, she was unused to needing to change in the shower.  She forgot items.  She did remember the towel though, so she is safely PG.  She dashes into the shower and turns on the music.  The calming sounds of Beethoven fill the apartment "Moonlight Sonata", a favorite.  She turns it up a little more than normal to hide her soft singing along and her bursts of tears, mourning all she ever knew and worrying about her cat and tomorrow.  Once she finishes, she finds herself without all she needed.  She sighs and wraps a towel about her.  She peeks out of the door and checks to be sure he is not looking.  He is not.  She dashes into her bedroom and shuts the door by falling back against it.  She takes a deep breath.<br/><br/>She goes directly to all that she wished to wear, putting the outfit on first, the boots, the collar.  She brushes her long black hair, arranging her bangs neatly across her forehead.  She turns to get her dagger.  Another little note there.  She reads it and knows the one who took her kitty wants her to have this dagger with her. "Why?" floats through her head repeatedly, but she has no idea.  So she takes his word for it.  She straps the dagger about her thigh with the simple red silk strips and lets the ends tease the back of her knee as they hang down.  For some reason, she is suddenly worried about having something in her teeth.  With all that is happening, she pauses to brush her teeth and check them to be sure nothing shows.  Finally completely dressed, she adds no perfumes - never having the need for them before, she owned none to wear.  She straightens her skirt and her top, runs her hand over her hair once more and strides out into the living room.  Something about certain outfits can change everything about you, right down to how you walk.  This was one of those outfits for Gwin.  She stood taller and more confident than before, her strides were more purposeful.