[Her life didn't allow for normal. Even without being called as a Slayer, her childhood more or less fatherless and a mother barely worth the name had meant she'd needed to be strong. Otherwise, she'd have been dead a long time ago.

Faith's stomach starts to growl the moment she eyes the muffin which she gladly snatches out of his hand.] Thanks, sugar plum. [It's teasing. She might not be used to people calling her 'dear'. She gestures to the percolator resting the far counter, taking a very unladylike bite out of her muffin, moving to sit on the edge of her bed.

Her gaze follows his to the weapons.] Oh, I can still make nice. I can just bite back if anyone thinks they can get the better of me. A woman, traveling alone, I'm sure you can guess how some men think they can take advantage. [It's not a lie, entirely. But the arsenal served a different purpose than protection from mortal men.]