A faint, wry smile came to her lips as the man turned and spoke, moving her shoulders in a small shrug. She looked at him as she took a quick drink of her martini, her green eyes - almost catlike in their appearance - flicked from his face to the bottle of ale he had ordered, and back to him again. Corellian, huh? This guy took his liquor seriously.
"Eh, true." she conceded, "But even so...most of us have been stuck here for such a long time, we don't even bother to distinguish who was really born here and who just happened in, hoping to make a fortune in the mines. Obviously..." she cast a sweeping glance around the cantina, "Not many of us are exactly living on fortunes."