She noticed the change in his expression, how it darkened, but hers remained slightly amused. Raven was no stranger to looking severe, but there was almost always a slight edge of deadpan humour to it. This young man, whoever he was, just appeared very surly; perhaps owing to cabin fever, or maybe he was among the group that truly, truly abhorred being here.
“Alright, you caught me,” she smirked and flicked her glasses up to the top of her head, pushing her hair behind her ears in the process. “I’m a serial vending thief. The contents of a vending machine will never be safe from me. They had a nickname for me back in New York and everything.”
Grin still in place, she held her hand out for him to shake it. “But you can call me Raven.”