Mei-Xing scowls up at him, then crosses her arms, puffing some of her hair out of her eyes. "I was hoping I'd get some advice on how to improve my swordsmanship, and maybe some instruction on axes and the like. But if all I'm going to get is some uppity Frenchman talking down to me because I'm an elf and I happen to admire bows, I might as well not waste my time." The last thing she needs is to be stuck in some fucking Tolkein stereotype be a fucking Frenchman.

She's choosing to ignore the bit where he got the drop on her now. Amazing how some people can edit their own memories.