“You’re dripping blood on the carpet.” (Kakashi Hatake)
The voice in the dark apartment startles her and while she doesn't flinch, it sends a chill down her spine. Chiari turns as if in slow motion, releasing her grip on the window she'd been about to close. She's internally cursing herself for not having evaluated this well enough; she had been certain this apartment was vacant, or at least its occupant had been absent for some time.
Biiig miscalculation, she chides herself, turning, hands up in mock surrender toward the source of the voice. It seems to click that his words were not 'what are you doing in my home?' or something akin to that, and she spares a very hasty glance down.
Well, he's not wrong, she thinks noting that the hastily bandaged gash on her arm has bled through the gauze and was leaving a splattering of dark droplets on the carpet.
"Uh... sorry?" she offers an apologetic smile and takes a small step backward toward the window she had entered through.