"I'd be delighted," replies the bald woman, not much taller than he is. "Though I've never danced before, I'll also try not to step on your feet."

Despite her crisp and posh sounding voice, her battered trenchcoat and the little holes in her shirt suggest she's lived a life of danger rather than privilege. Some look like they've been stabbed through, and a couple look distinctly like a bullet was shot through them.

He's an interesting looking fellow. His appearance reminds her a little of Azazel, and thus in her mind she's dubbed him Cowboy Azazel, until he introduces himself.