Roxy is waiting for him outside, helmet on, a heavy bag at her side. Though she is rather notably more...subdued than usual. Usually she's bright and cheerful energy, but now she's quiet, watching. She doesn't have the energy to force herself to be happy. She just...

She feels the need to prove herself. The more people tell her she's not capable, the more it's been bugging her to Prove Them Wrong. And....well, at this point, it was either listen to that need to prove herself, or the encroaching depression, and she knows which one she wants to listen to.

Though when Maine arrives, she tilts her head. "Knifle, I take it?"