"I like to know a lot of information," was Cadence's reply to the stiff statement. If Kurami was irritated with her in any way it went well over her head. She liked listening to the older woman talk, liked her accent. It was more than likely Cadence would have been able to speak to her in her first language, but she decided to save that little nugget of information for later. When they would need to speak in private when they were out in public, or quietly when there was a chance of eavesdroppers. For now, she would speak in English and let Kurami do the same.
When the arm dropped around her shoulder, Cadence smiled to herself. Maybe this wouldn't be just a hired thing after all. Maybe she could get Kurami to warm up to her. She always believed she was the type of person everyone would love if they just got to know her. Really, she wasn't so bad. "You're over 400 years old?" The question wasn't quite as disbelieving as it probably should have been. During her time underground, Cadence had met many different mutants with a vast array of abilities. When it came down to it, a long life wasn't so hard to swallow. "Do you enjoy killing?" For a second she wasn't sure if she wanted the answer.
As Kurami's attention was pulled elsewhere, Cadence followed with her gaze. She stopped walking and tilted her head like a curious animal, listening. "Something is happening."
It wasn't like she liked to fight, in fact Cadence wasn't all that thrilled to be in combat with anyone with the end result being death. She loved training and was always pulled in by the physicality of it. For that reason alone, she didn't hesitate to run toward the commotion instead of away from it. The sight was somewhat of a surprise. Seeing the young woman jumped from behind brought back flashes of terrible memories. They were horrible, unspeakable things, but they served as wonderful motivation for her to not simply fade into the background.
"Hey!" If anyone looked at her, she'd appear a demure little girl just begging for it. And that was exactly how she wanted to appear. Somewhat pigeon-toed, knees pointed at each other, one shoulder slouched lower than the other in fake insecurity. The look on her face suggested she was rethinking calling attention to herself. But as she stood there, twin dagger from sheathes strapped to her arms beneath her jacket slid down to rest in her curled fingers. She wanted them to come at her. She wanted them to make the first move in hopes of distracting attention from the other woman.