Dahlia had no idea who the Master might be, but she didn't want to come right out and say that.
"I have my own playbook, young man," she said. She paused. "What is your name, anyway?" She tried to say it in a casual tone, as if she could have found out easily but hadn't bothered.
She traced a gloved finger over the wound she had made. "And how does your arm feel?
[OOC: I'm on my way to sleep but I'll be back on tonight. Sorry for schedule differences.]