She's never actually fought a human before. Part of Kettara wants to, damn this room and the strange voice. A fight would make things simple, live or die, and certainly she would not die. Humans can be clever and cruel, Kettara knows, but their strength comes from numbers and the willingness to act without honor. Surely she can take this one. She's stronger than he is, faster, and armored.

All he has - or at least all that she can see - is the knife.

But, of course, that wouldn't be fair.

Kettara flattens her ears. It's tempting to watch the knife as it spins and shines in the light, but she knows better. Instead she watches the man, wondering what split his face open. It's not the worst scarring she's seen, but she can respect the extent of it, and the pain it surely wrought in the getting. "Kettara."

She doesn't give share any of her titles. There's no reason to. A human wouldn't understand.