The soft cloth falls away, pooling at her feet, and she allows him the time to look. Diana stands before him with no shame, no hint of bashfulness in her expression. She's spent most of her life living in close-quarters in the barracks on Themyscira, and had long ago left her timidity behind. There was no room for it in a soldier's life.

The corners of her lips tilt upwards at the comment, and one hand slides down her thigh to run her fingers over the hilt of the blade. "I always am." Since the day she had enough money to buy her own weapons, she's always had a blade on her, no matter where she'd gone. It was part habit, part uncertainty about this place.

All things considered, she's glad that she hadn't broken the habit today. The heat in his eyes is mirrored in her own.

She watches him remove his bracer with interest, head tilted slightly. She's seen it before, of course, but that doesn't make her notice it less. "I'm not the only one," she muses, smile growing a bit. And, since he's started to disarm, she bends slightly to begin slowly unstrapping the sheath from her leg.