Arc lifted a brow as the troll spoke, that cowboy drawl coming out in full and assaulting her ears..much like her street speak assaulted his more than likely. Little missy? Who the drek this hoop think he is, huh? The 1800s called. They wanted their views back, fragger. Sighing, she gave a little smirk and clapped her hands, giving a little curtsy. "Well, Ex-CUUSE me, pardner. Please, allow me to away and seek the owner of this fine establishment and have him help you, cuz I am merely a woman, and surely am just visiting this here mechanic shop on my own free time between getting mah nails done and readin' a Cosmo" Her mimicry of the western drawl was dripping with sarcasm, but still was pretty decent as the human turned around, taking to steps towards the door and then rounding again, leaning on one hip with arms crossed as she faced him.
"I'm the owner of this place, ya hear me trog? Ain't no fraggin' lie about that, I built this place up from nothin'. Big man thinks he knows so much (Or'Zet). I might know a Raven, and I ain't afraid to tell you I'm in on a team taking down that spirit. Why you got hired as bodyguard I dunno. You some mojo hoop or somethin'? From what I know, that's the only way to do drek against this thing.." She paused, taking another step forward. "Unless you be signed on what to protect this hood to take down the slitchwitch this thing be bound to? Hope you know how to fight ghouls and geek wiz. This ain't no party, trog. So I say again, and speak slowly and plainly. My--name--is--Arc. To--who--am--I--speaking?"