Lucie shrugged one shoulder. "I don't care about cats." Sleeping in places mostly frequented by them - on roofs and up trees - she couldn't afford to dislike them that much, although an angry tomcat had been responsible for some of the scars on her lower arm. Although, thinking of angry tomcats... Lucy?
It was probably coincidence.
"Staring him down, I'm pretty sure I can do," she added, after a beat. "He's not the only total bastard around. How long have you had them?" The small talk was, honestly, only slightly less jarring than the cab itself; small talk wasn't something any of her personas made a habit of. She was starting to wish she hadn't bothered with this.