He asks for a name and for a moment, she pauses. She's reclined against the back of the cave, not really moving to get out, but not really making herself at home either. Should she give her name? She wasn't sure she could trust this fellow. While he seemed nice enough to attempt to save her (even if his intentions were quite known yet), that didn't automatically mean that she needed to give him a name. That name was hers. It had been given to her by her parents out of love. What love they had for her now was something else entirely. But still, the name was hers and she wasn't so sure she was ready to just tell it to everyone.

Alex had so often told her that life on the streets was hard. You had to at least appear tough or else you would be teased and taken advantage of. He always said that giving out your name was showing vulnerability. He would know, he had lived on the streets far longer than she had. She had followed his advice and it had served her well. Even though this city seemed rather forgiving, she wasn't so sure she was ready to embrace it fully.

"Pick one...I'll not tell you my Christian name." Her name was a secret she held so dear to her heart. It was something that she would cherish and only those that proved loyal to her would be allowed to know it. There was something unsettling about this man...Levi as he called himself. Something about him made her skin crawl. Emmy knew that trusting her gut would keep her alive in this cruel world, so she would continue to do so.

He doesn't seem to believe her when she tells him that the storm would not hurt her. She would not admit that she could not control her powers â€" it was something that she was working on. She needed someone to train her and guide her â€" Alex had been that person...until he wasn't. She practiced when she could and she was getting better at it, but she still could not control her powers when her emotions were involved. It was like her emotions fueled her powers in a way that she didn't understand. She wasn't sure how to fix that without some sort of teacher.

She mentions that there had, at one point, been someone that meant her harm. He seems pretty convinced that the man is no longer chasing her. He had probably been scared off by the storm, but she looks out the entrance to the cave for good measure. He offers to knock the man's teeth out and she shakes her head. "I can manage on my own." She did own pepper spray and a taser, both of which had come in handy recently. He may not believe her capable of defending herself (though he may say otherwise), but she could. She wasn't afraid to lay her skill on him either if she had to.

She pauses, then, asking him why exactly he had bothered to attempt to risk his life for her. She was a stranger to him and he owed her nothing. Why then had he? Did he seem to think she would throw herself at him? Offering herself as payment? It wouldn't be the first time sex was expected of her. Unfortunately for those men, they didn't realize how strong of a woman she could be.

His answer had her eye resting on his, searching for sincerity. She didn't think he was lying to her when he said he was neither good nor a dick. She supposed that was a plus. But it still didn't explain why he had done what he had. Eyes watched him sit down in the sand, a position of vulnerability. It was almost as though he was trying to gain her trust. Why, she couldn't be certain.

His question takes her off guard a little bit and she sighs as she brushes away a strand of blond hair from in front of her face. "Not always, but it happens." What she didn't tell him was that it happened all the time. Men saw a homeless woman and assumed she was desperate for money (and thus the solicitation offers) or that she was weak (and thus the unwanted affection). What they didn't know was that she was neither. She just happened to be homeless â€" but it wasn't something that defined her.

Eyes looked out the door of the cave and she looked out at the ocean that seemed calm as if nothing had ever happened. It was a peaceful scene, something she very much enjoyed. The beach was one of her favorite places to visit as a child. She enjoyed swimming and catching sand crabs. The only thing she didn't like was getting stung by jellyfish. But then again, that had only happened once. She sighed. "And do you always spend your Sundays at the beach trying to rescue damsels in distress?" It seemed like a fair question. After all, he had been the first to ask.