"Clarice Starling." She smiles as she closes the distance between them the rest of the way and shakes her hand. Her grip is the calculated perfect balance between firm and friendly, and her fingers are cool.

"I have a feeling I'm here because of what I used to do for a living," she admits, "but who knows, they might need someone who knows a thing or two about horses, too." She pauses, trying to place his accent. "You haven't lived in Maine for a long time, have you, Mr. Tozier?"

It's okay. She hasn't lived in West Virginia or Montana for ages, either, and her own accent slips through just fine.