She added quietly as she and her companion approached the dangerous looking slums of Houston when he had not reassured her of their safety. As the distance to their destination grew smaller, more and more disturbing details came into view - especially the empty broken windows where potential shooters could be lurking for her and her companion. It was exactly the sort of place where a police patrol only went if they absolutely had to. And now there was only her and her companion, Damien Morreti.
Fiorella showed no signs of concern - she still had her 'aura' of calm, slow and methodical movements about her - yet it was still evident by the way her entire body subconsciously tensed in anticipation of potential danger.
"If you have not mentioned the tailor, I could almost think you were here to pick up some potentially illegal addictive substances."
She added, slightly amused and perhaps chuckling slightly with her melodic laugh placing more emphasis on the deeper, stronger tones of her vocal range. In the face of potential danger, her joy at their trip did not seem to have left her.
"What kind of clothes are you talking about, Mister Doe?"
She asked him out of curiosity once they were stopped in front of the semi-decayed slums that stretched bleakly around them. Perhaps the most distressing feeling was that none of the locals had shown up yet at the moment, but they had been watching them cautiously, waiting.
