[Teddy takes a breath and tilts their head back in a well, shit, so it's like that kind of considering gesture before nodding, slowly. Those are some specific precautions -- and not specific at all, which is a little more alarming -- to not have any hesitation in giving.

She can feel herself already sort of calculating what be prepared for anything means. Teddy's whole thing is being prepared for anything. Most things, anyway. She gets teased for it by her best friends at home: don't worry, Teddy brought it, whatever it is: bug spray or bandaids, condoms or NarCan. Of course she has a pen. Yes, she brought an actual map. It's a road flare, don't fucking touch it. No, she never leaves the house without a knife.

But Teddy's never had to prepare for not understanding. Jesus. He fucking hates that immediately.

Bigby's next question almost makes Teddy laugh, but it isn't actually funny given the givens: it's just funny if you're them.]

Yeah. Yeah, I can fight.

[She leans forward to rest elbows on widened knees, and gives a little context:]
I, uh. I was a pretty angry kid. Not that I didn't have reasons, but. I kind of had to learn how to not be that person all the time?

But yeah, I could still hold my own. [Maybe better, honestly.]

[Teddy considers the context and adds a fifty-fifty hand gesture, lifting an eyebrow wryly]
I reckon it depends on what I'm fighting, though. And, if it comes down to it, if there are weapons available. And they work.