"Me? Nah. I'm tough." Russian Canadian. Another piece of the puzzle. Bred for cold winters and even colder family dynamics. She's also a liar, apparently, because she is freezing but doesn't want to seem weak in front of the stranger with handcuffs. It's just a precaution, some kind of latent survival skill. Fake it 'til you make it.

Kenzi stands after the other woman does, rising as slowly as she'd knelt down. No sudden movements. Maybe the police station is making her nervous, putting her on edge, but she knows it's probably because she's been on edge since she woke up.

"What, this? I am... totally a nurse." No you're not. "On my lunch break." It's not even lunch! Also you have bruises on your face and little cuts on your arms, you aren't fooling anyone, Kenz.

"... Hospitals suck and they can't fix this. No point in sticking around," She finally concedes with a huff and a roll of her eyes.