She's about to snort at that statement of the painfully obvious when the unexpected reminder of her home makes the derision catch in her throat. "Used to be," she says and glances down at the pitiful weapon in her hand, the words too hollow for the calculated indifference between them. "I've recently found myself having to make do with Earth." There, that's an appropriate level of bitterness back in her voice.

When she looks up, an unpleasant smirk tugs at her lips as an amusing thought occurs to her. "Wonder which of us would have made more humans run screaming, before I was made to fit in with this soft little body." Humans may not have been at fault for what's been done to her and to her planet, but that doesn't mean she can't dream about taking it out on them now and again.