Tsume tried to stand still under the woman's scrutiny, finally releasing the jutsu that kept her nails and teeth longer, her body slightly more feral, and feeling chakra slide wearily down her pathways. Always slightly inhuman, she smiled, a twist of her mouth that lifted one corner and exposed the point of an eyetooth. "That's me. You been studying the ANBU roster, or just listening to rumor?"

Not that it was hard to guess who she was--she was the only Inuzuka in the building, and the tattoos didn't exactly make her blend in. Tsume found herself angling her head this way and that, a subconscious drive to hide the still-healing wounds on her face and the missing half of her ear. She stopped purposefully, held herself still, and waited for an answer.

"I'm just saying," Kuromaru announced grumpily, "gunpowder is a great way to make all your friends dislike you. Makes people itch, you know."

Tsume relaxed in her annoyance, shooting a look at her familiar. "If you don't like the smell of gunpowder, you shouldn't go around sniffing people."

"She shouldn't talk about me like I'm not here." He looked over his shoulder, ears back. "My name," he said pointedly, "is Kuromaru-san."

It was hard to be wary when your familiar was making a moonfaced flea of himself. "Kuromaru--"

His ears came up, his tail waving once with idle pleasure. "Or maybe Kuromaru-senpai. You're new, after all."

Tsume scratched behind her good ear, and gave her familiar a dirty look.