"No point in hating your fangs when they're part of you." Slowly, no sudden movements, Nyx holds up her left hand, making a kinda claw pointed up towards the sky. It shifts; it's the oddest thing, no crunching of bones or shedding of flesh, it's almost like Kitty has been looking at it wrong the whole time, and is only just now realizing that the hand is a mass of filthy, rusty razors, segmented like fingers and dripping something unwholesome into the dust. "Second hardest part; we are what we are. Bein' your own enemy blows; you gotta live with you all the time. But. I've got places to be, and I suspect you do too. Next time, yeah?"