Being watched was not unusual for her.  The feeling of eyes upon her a sensation she had long since learned to accept.  Many had witnessed her with desire in their hearts or fear in their eyes, sometimes both.  Catalina had always used the persona to distract and overcome her adversaries, knowing that victory at any cost was still victory.  Such a reputation had earned her many jobs, but also many enemies wishing to see how far the woman would go for that promise of success.  Few walked away unanswered.  So the shifting children and wandering eyes did little to deter her advance.  Only when she saw the soldiers did she even take a precaution to show her lack of ill will.  That caution being to keep her hands away from the sides of her belt.<br/><br/>Those striking eyes absorbed the images of despair around her with merely a passive touch.  Somewhere inside she knew that there ought to be more.  She remembered lands much like these in her childhood, faces much like those in shadowed doorways had smiled at her long ago.  Yet she could muster no sorrow or sympathy for their plight.  Nothing was to move her hand away from the goals before her.<br/>