Warsman can only believe that in part. Men and monsters may not frighten her, but- but what about something in between? Isn't that what makes it so horrific? Being caught between the two? Grown men froze at the sight of his face, champions, people known for slaying monsters large enough to level cities; how can he trust Hattie's word in the face of experience?

He doesn't say any of this, though. Instead, he gives a disconsolate sigh and puts a hand to his forehead. "Please." Then he looks up, a little braver. "Actually... if you have anything stronger, I'd appreciate it. Vodka, maybe?" Not that he usually starts so early in the day, if at all, but his nerves are more than a little rattled at this point.