[ Sal stops in the doorway, looking warily over all of the appliances she doesn't recognize and the many foreign items that make up these rooms. Eventually, her attention is drawn to the guy stretched out on the one of the beds. Her hand moves up to the long red scarf around her neck, pulling it down so she can be heard. ]

Oh yeah? Well, just don't try to slit my throat in the night and I guess we'll be fine.

[ She sure sounds serious, or maybe it's the frown locked onto her current expression; that scar sliced down her right cheek sure doesn't help either. Finally, Sal steps in and shuts the door behind her. Walking in a little further, she notices something else that catches her interest. ]

What the hell is that supposed to be...?

[ She gestures over to that strange weapon of his. It doesn't look like the sword she's got belted at her own waist, that's for sure. ]