Gretel just stared at him. The word cool didn't make sense in the context, given the fact that she was obviously wearing very thick leather everywhere except her face and neckline- but this wasn't the first time she'd heard someone use it in a strange context, so she let it go.
The only other thing she could fathom was it being some kind of compliment, and given the tone and the obvious falseness of the smile, her money was on him wanting something.
"Gretel. And you're about five hundred years off," she told him casually after the moment passed. With one gauntleted hand on her book, the other grabbed the thick-stocked crossbow on the other side of the table and moved it closer to her... facing him, but at least there was room for him to sit down.
"Did you need something or is this small-talk as fun for you as it is for me?" she drolled with low, but obvious sarcasm.