He cast her a partial glance as she fell into step beside him, faintly impressed at her self-confidence. Not many had the nerve to actually stick close to him. Then again, she also didn't know a thing about him, either.
"Riddick," he answered, refraining from the 'Richard B.' part of the introduction. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. This time, it didn't. "I had a shine-job."
Looking toward the path for a moment, he came to a stop as a small hermit crab scurried in front of them. Most couldn't make it out in the darkness. Most didn't have his eyesight, either.
Once it was safely on the other side of the trail, he continued walking and added without preamble, "Payed a doc twenty menthol Kools for a bit of surgery. Makes it fucking impossible for someone to sneak up on me in the dark. Where I come from, that used to be a problem."
As they reached the bottom of the path he stopped walking again, this time turning to face her fully. "How'd you become a hunter?" he questioned bluntly. He could tell that's what she was, even if she didn't look the part. There was something about the way she carried herself... he recognized the signs. She, too, wasn't someone to cross. He had to admit, once again, he was faintly impressed.