While it might seem like a veritable pissing contest was getting set up, Katrina's own actions were all incidental. She didn't believe in warning a potential enemy if there was an opportunity to just strike. She didn't waste time gloating, like some unrealistically pantomime villain. Her body language was all geared towards, not a peacock-like threat display, but readying for physical confrontation.
"Well, usually I prefer something live, but... M'not necessarily fussy."
A statement of fact. Most human beings and, quite possibly, even vampires, didn't think of the undead preying upon one another. When it came to getting her kicks from torture, however, Katrina very much did indulge in other vampiric victims, if nothing human was around.
That healing factor had some fun unintentional bonuses...
Her way of signalling to the other vampiress that she wasn't just a killer of human prey, but experienced enough to have previously taken on their kind. Anything Elizaveta did or said now, was effectively on her own head.
Reaching behind her, the brunette slid out a blade from its holster. The metal as black as her clothing, but no less sharper than its more reflective cousins. If the blonde had prejudices about her cruder undead brethren, then Katrina seemed all too happy to confirm them through actions.
"So, either you scram or, uh... Become a fixture of my night's entertainment."