'A hardcore lady' is not in fact the worst description of Natasha Romanoff. She knows who she is and what she can handle, and the fact that that limit is quite a bit higher than it is for most people is part of the reason she can face situations like this without blinking. Well, maybe a little bit of blinking. The way this guy moves is pinging all sorts of alarms in her head, even if the way he speaks is at odds with that weird posture, the terrible jokes not matching up with the rest. She can't quite resist an eyeroll, even as she doesn't take her focus off him. The buffalo thing is a known quantity, even if it is an unwanted one; she knows what it is and what it thinks and feels, even as she doesn't exactly know how to extricate herself from it. This guy--he's an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous, in her world.

"More like they're into me. I'm used to guys like that not wanting to take no for an answer," she says, still flippant even as she mentally flips through her options for getting out of the room, evading both this guy and the creature outside, running inventory on her weapons. Depleted as they are. But it's difficult to keep that tally running when he's clearly erratic, not making sense.

She's never regretted asking questions. The answers are always worth it. And yet, she knows before she even asks this question that no part of this answer is going to be something she doesn't regret.

"What the hell is that going to do?"