"Hey hey! Just sight-seein'! Was hopin' to enjoy some of those white sand beaches I've heard so much about!"

She calls after the man's voice, giving him a passing glance in the crook of her gigantic hat. A flash of steel, and her hand twitches on her blade before she realizes -- it's just the color of his eyes. She bites the inside of her cheek, and her hand drops from the blade at her waist.

"So much for that! What a pain!"

She pretends to whine, but the smile on her face doesn't droop in the slightest. She takes a step closer, sizing him up. Not much she can gather at this distance, what with all the sand, but even in these conditions she can tell he's a real looker. It's too bad she's here for more important things.

"Say, you a local? Need a lil help. Been lookin' for the sheriff's office, but it's hard fiding my way 'round with all this blasted sand!"

So he is a local.

She confirms her suspicions, stepping closer with a smile. It's a little wider than before. Shows a little more teeth. There's a look in her eye like static discharge the moment before a lightning strike. It lingers momentarily, before she decides against it.

What's the use, at this rate?

"Yep, just great! Peachy, even! Little sand won't get me down! Came for the beaches, but guess they came to me, eh?"

She laughs at her own joke, then steps closer with the invitation. The man, whoever he is, offered her directions and an escort. She'd be stupid to turn that down.

"And, well... the Sheriff's office, I guess! Been lookin' for him. Name's Davidson or something like that, right? You must know him, huh?"

"Oh! Right, right... of course! Navidson!"

She hides her eyes under the brim of her hat as he corrects her. The way he says it, like it's some point of pride, like he's taking ownership of it-- she's almost sorry. The way these people idolize their heroes, and here she is: takin' them away.

But that's the way it is. Cillian Quinn wants it that way.

At the very least, she's meant to take the lawman. There'll be nobody left to investigate his death. Nobody competent, anyway.

So lucky for this rugged specimen, she won't need to cover her--

"Wait, you're Navy!?"

All the air leaves her chest at once. For the first time since she met him, she's not smiling. She stands still while he walks ahead. It lasts just a second, but she closes her eyes all the same and curses the gods.

A brief moment of mourning.

"Shit... just had to be my type, huh? Why couldn't you be a little uglier!?"

By the time those words leave her lips, a ball has already hit the ground. A spinning, metallic mole erupts from the blinding light, blades menacing in all directions as it bears down on the man in front of her with a drill run, carving through earth and sending a cloud of dust everywhere.

She clenches her teeth as steel grinds against ivory.

Pointed tusks set to gore her excadrill cause the pokemon to pull back at the last moment, finishing her violent spin with a flourish and using the momentum to push herself away. She slides across the ground as they break their clash, neither making any headway. The subterrene pokemon stares at the paradox, readying the blades on its claws.

"Hah! True enough! Should see the guy who sent me to kill ya!"

She smiles cheerfully, her attitude belying her assassination attempt. There's fire in his steel eyes now, something that was missing before. She likes that. The ones that put up a fight, who don't go quietly - they're her favorite.

"Too bad a pretty face won't save you!"

Her excadrill leaps forward, sent into a violent rapid spin that clears the battlefield of dust and debris, and toxic spikes. In the sand she's faster, stronger. She crosses the distance in a flash of steel, bringing clash sharp enough to cleave metal against the pokemon's rocky hide.

"What, you know him?"

Her smile grows wider.

Lucky guess or not, he was gonna be dead in a minute anyway. Who was she, to deny him the name of the one who'd ordered the deed?

Her excadrill shifts subtly in the sand between trading volleys with the paradox. Their spinning clashes send out debris, sparks, and blood, in equal measure. But, now that it had lulled it into a false sense of complacency...

"Hey, now! Watch yourself! I'm still a lady, y'know? Don't appreciate the insinuation I kill for money!"

No. It's sport.

The excadrill spins in place again, but this time as the rival pokemon draws near, it flares its huge metal claws outward. Obscured by the sandstorm, its natural habitat, the pokemon's sand force boosts the surprise move, causing considerable damage.

The woman only smiles as she locks eyes with her prey, a look of satisfaction the same as if she'd finally made it to that beach she'd been talking about. Being on the battlefield was in her nature.

The concern he shows for his would-be killer is commendable. She doesn't need his concern, though. Her hands are faster than his mouth, drawing two blades free of their sheathes at either hip. She presses them together in front of her, and a concentrated bead of qi parts the earth in front of her, earthquake extending on either side.

"Hell of a wild thing, huh!? Just kill it before it can finish!"

Her excadrill tears and grasps at earth, trying its best to keep its balance and close the distance between it and its target. Though the sand allows it to move faster, and hit stronger, the earth it usually digs through is torn to shreds by the paradox pokemon's mighty rampage.

It arrives, beaten and battered, bringing its claws down for one final, violent swipe on the pokemon, tearing through rocky armor and earth alike with a drill run. It's worse for wear, however, covered in its own blood by the time it can reach its target.

Her excardrill stares down its foes. So do her swords. She can feel them hum in her hand, intent on drawing blood. She glowers, and shoves them back in their sheathes before their thirst can be sated.

"What, runnin' already!?"

The drake is huge, larger than she's seen in person. Her hand rests at her hip, and she decides against a pursuit. Her skarmory wouldn't fare well against dragon fire, being made of metal and all. Maybe it wouldn't melt, but she'd be roasted alive. At least, that's what that compendium had said.

She watches him disappear into the distance, and only once she's sure he's gone - that he hasn't circled around for a counter-attack - does she recall her excadrill.

"Damn, and I was just starting to have fun, too!"

She looks out at the dunes. Somewhere beyond them, there lies the rest of the island.

"... The mountains, huh, sheriff?"

Where there's trouble, the sheriff will arrive. At least, that's what they say...