Hippolyta's gaze moved to the girl and she fought down the sudden feeling of jealously growing inside. Victor had been hers once. They'd had a life together and although she'd known he'd moved on, seeing him actually with someone else was like a cold shard in her heart. (Hippolyta didn't realise that she straightened herself up then, adding to her height. Nor did she notice that she'd clenched her jaw or, for just a moment, tightened the grip around her sandwich.)
She wished she had a spear, a sword. Not because she wanted to attack but because without those things she still felt naked. There was a gun at her hip, but it was a completely different weapon with a completely different battle feel.
"Kat," Hippolyta said after far too long of a gap. She forced an unconvincing smile. Hippolyta had never been good at pretending to be happy when she wasn't. Transferring everything to one hand, she reached out her other stiffly and forced herself to be gentle. She could have broken the girl's hand if she squeezed as hard as she felt like squeezing. "Nice to meet you."