Mac heard the voice but still reacted, a symptom of the war. She smoothly yet quickly pulled her gun out and aimed. But she was relieved and lowered the gun when she actually saw who it was, regardless of her mind having already made the voice connection.
Her chest rose and lowered heavily as she tried to control her startlment with her breathing while she put her gun away. Mac nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Under normal circumstances, she'd never discuss something like this with another Chet, or anyone for that matter. But her and Savage had this weird agreement about things, stay out of each other's business, and if business is somehow found out, don't say it to another soul. It was an unspoken agreement, but it was still there, or so she hoped.
"It's not like I haven't taken life before. Fuck, one of my firsts was my step-father, that bastard. I just," Mac held her hands up a bit, "It's like I still see it there sometimes. Seven years and yet this is the first time..." Mac shook her head as if shaking off the rest of her sentence and her thought.
"I don't have full range of motion yet, but it's getting there. Slowly. It's a good thing it's been dislocated before," she tried to joke a little with a small smirk, "but that motherfucker really didn't need to break it too. Completely took me out of the last of the war." A ghost ache crept up her arm as she spoke about it, and she rubbed it with the other hand, silently praying that she'd eventually get full range of motion back. Mac really needed to get into the cage fights. How else was she to prove herself still worthy of her title? Speaking of cage fights..
"How's your friend, Scarlet it is, right? She's asleep, I'm assuming, since I doubt you'd leave her at night otherwise." It wasn't a dig, it was just a fact she had noticed since the redhead had been brought in by her Chet tribesman. She didn't pry. In fact, she had kept many from prying, most by sheer threat, others by actually having to give black eyes via her good arm.