Her eyes narrow a little at the question. She wonders, dispassionately, if he missed her cameo on the nine o'clock news. It's a fair question, though; regardless of this guy's experience, he'll have no reason to trust her word on the matter if he thinks all of her knowledge is just a result of spending hours on the dark line (like so many other people her age, too young to have really taken part in the Wars and too impressionable at the time to avoid a bit of an obsession).

But she's not some wide-eyed rube with zero practical experience, and she doesn't want him to get that impression. She doesn't exactly take pride in the fact that she can dispatch a vampire more effectively with her bare hands than he probably could with his improvised stake, but she doesn't deny it, either. "Like I said," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I haven't taken a head count." Or general dismembered body part count.