Well, she killed a few of her own, would do it again, and she fully expects attempts on her life to occur here and there, back home. The difference is she has far more people who believe in her as who'd like to see her dead. Whether that means she's good or not, time will tell.

In her experience, the people who posture the most are often the least effective. The ones who are observant and wait for their time to come are scarier, especially if compassion is no longer on the table where they are concerned. She hums thoughtfully in acknowledgement at the distinction drawn between mercy and compassion. She's tempted to agree, although it's not a topic she's thought on so much before. More often than not, in the days before the Road War, she had to shut off her sense of mercy, too. Out in the Wasteland, her reputation lingers.

"What about kindness?" she asks. "Sounds like the same thing, but it isn't, quite."

Something about the way he mentions Winter makes that prickly sense of danger tickle the back of her neck again. She turns her gaze out toward the horizon, frowning. "This one's been quieter than the last. Not sure I trust that, but here I am anyway."