Sabrina allows just a bit of a smile to glimmer through on what's otherwise a possibly pouting face. She really hadn't wanted to explain the variety of carefully wrapped teeth-- though she's not sure it's the reputable supplier today. Please, please don't let it be a mixed box of teeth that needs sorting.

She nods, folding her legs up in front of her, a pose that comes too naturally to this particular iteration of her body.

"All you'll need to do is answer the door and sign my name," she says. "They won't be worried about matching a face. As for the other part, I'm going to guess it's a Darrow thing."