Kristen gives her statement, trying not to get antsy or panic. After all, they'll release her. They will. She makes sure to include that she is, of course, law-abiding, and says, appreciative, that she is grateful for the verbal warning, and that she'll try to stay out of trouble. She keeps her arms crossed and her legs together, distinctly uncomfortable in these surroundings, around these strange things with wind-up keys out of their backs. When her path is blocked, she tries not to assume the worst.<br/><br/>Her eyes follow the clock gears in Officer Tock's mouth for an instant, before she snaps her attention to his gaze rather than his gears. She's walking a fine line, she knows. The officers all look freakish to her, and she's sure that, if provoked, it'll be hell to get out alive. She looks at the swagger stick, and she knows in her soul that the rust color is blood, and her skin crawls with apprehension. Officer Tock may be a  killer...maybe he has rules, but he's likely a killer.<br/><br/>She still shook his hand, her grip firm, and smiled. She said, “Not a hero, sir. But thank you for the compliment. Coming from an officer like you, it means a lot. But I'll try to stay out of those situations from now on.”<br/><br/>Awake? Had he called her “Awake?”<br/><br/>That's not the first person who's used that term, is it? This must be the word for people like her who don't sleep. Who can't sleep. Who sometimes wish they could sleep.