Dig my grave. (Ursano/Sarafine/invite)

[gravedigger]

Gotham Cemetery, a old grave site, as old as the city itself and a site of much business since the dead rose and fell. The city had been littered with the remains of the undead. Thousands had died in the attacks and while the city had survived the thousands had been returned to their lifeless state and the dead had to be interred somewhere. Gravediggers were needed, gravediggers were demanded and not as many questions were asked... or applications really looked at. One took advantage of this.. confusion and gloried in the opportunity while the workers in the graveyard got a worker who worked for three days at a time if he could. Worked tirelessly and with a mere shovel dug faster then the heavy equipment on hand and even at night. He gloried in working for the dead... in a civilization that protected their dead... that had more ways of disposing of the dead with dignity and respect. The DUTY which was once so hard now didn't drag at him. Pulling him down. Instead it once more lifted him up, gave him hope that he had been doing the right thing the whole time. And shovel after shovel full was thrown skyward in pursuit of the DUTY.

In the middle of the graveyard he finished one more grave, the last shovelful thrown, the grave a perfect rectangle, the sides oddly polished looking. From down in the grave Ursano looked around him. Checking things by eye since he had long ago moved past needing a measuring tape for the DUTY. Beneath his garb he smiled at the sight and then backing up to the back of the grave he got the little running start and jumped for the edge of the grave while simultaneously shoving his shovel into his strife syllabus. His hands grasped the edge and he easily pulled himself up and out.

From the outside of Ursano's mind the vision was... creepier. The first thing a watcher would see was a pair of candy corn orange horns curved inwardly poked up out of the grave, they spread from a wide brimmed gray hat tattered with age and weathering raised up now. The face that came into view after was wrapped in black silk ribbon, every inch except a pair of eyes, one black with a bit of blue around the edges and the other similar only gray and dead looking. Over his mouth and nose though what first appeared to be his own defleshed nose and mouth was in fact just a breather mask made to look like part of a skull. As he pulled himself up he tilted back his head and took a deep breath and then continued, his shoulders pulled up into view showing his gray shin length coat. Unlike the hat this coat was in decent shape. Newer. He had bought it with his money... he was paid.. PAID to do the DUTY here... in was incredible. The coat was trimmed with dark blue and a black band was around his right bicep with a blue Omega symbol. Under the coat a black silk shirt with black tie lay and a pair of black slacks. For boots and covering his shins a pair of metal boots that looked like they belonged on a suit of armor shone a bit in the moonlight. This thin, gaunt figure was bedecked with this odd outfit without a speck of skin in sight as he finally got out and then held out a hand to summon forth his shovel again from the syllabus.

He reached up, pulled his hat off his head, held it over his heart and bowed his horned head. He didn't pray, he didn't believe. He didn't say anything. Just held a moment of silence reverence before looking up and then over at the coffin that was his last DUTY for the day. He kneeled before it and grabbed the handle as he spoke, a dry voice.

"(8= well sir. iT seems ThaT YoUr new home is all done. shall we geT YoU in There? TrUsT me mr. smiTh YoU will be comfY and UnmolesTeD or i will know The reason whY. and Unlike home YoU geT a nice sTone wiTh YoUr name on it, and people can visiT YoU whenever TheY wanT. Doesn'T ThaT soUnD nice?"

He smiled at the coffin as against what some might expect he moved it easily despite his very slim almost skeleton frame before he froze in place and then suddenly stood ramrod upright gazing around till his eyes latched onto a person... a living person in the graveyard.

"(8=.... can i help YoU ma'am?"

[Sarafine Duchannes]

When Sarafine's grandmother died, she'd been seven years old, and she'd nearly refused to go to the funeral because she'd been afraid someone would see her cry. Even today, that fear of weakness, of...vulnerability, remained. Sensations like love and grief, on the other hand, were things long lost to her. She could barely remember what it was like, to mourn the dead - and mortals seemed to do it so frequently. Given how ridiculously short-lived they were, Sarafine imagined their lives must be miserable and full of grief. Their cemeteries were certainly rather packed. Gotham's in particular, as she understood it, had a bit of an overcrowding problem. How terribly unfortunate for them! But she'd hardly come here to pay her respects - no, to a Dark Caster, a graveyard had several much more useful purposes. For one thing, they were an ideal location for any ritual Casting - dark, secluded, in full view of the moon most of the time...and of course, there was a convenient supply of, well, human remains. An old bone or two was a common ingredient in many of the oldest and darkest branches of spell-casting.

For Sarafine, such rituals were especially important. Casters had their own unique, individual abilities, and hers were especially rare. She was a Natural - or more specifically a Cataclyst; a Natural who had gone Dark. Her powers were especially in tune with the natural world, and partaking in regular midnight sessions of magical meditation was essential to keeping her abilities sharp and keen.

To anyone braving the cemetery at that hour, she might have looked eerily akin to some sort of dark spirit. Her long, black, Southern Gothic style gown trailed lightly behind her - she almost seemed to float, her pace was so disconcertingly smooth and even. An unnatural breeze kept the locks of her dark hair in motion, and her skin looked almost ghostly in the light of the moon. And then, of course, there were her eyes - possibly her very most unnerving feature. The cold, glowing yellow eyes of a Dark Caster served as a sort of natural warning sign to most other beings - 'something's not right, stay away'. Of course, these days they could simply pass for a rather expensive and exotic type of colored contacts. Modern mortals really were so oblivious - but she was hardly complaining.

But Sarafine faltered slightly in the next moment, a little taken aback - she'd just realized she was no longer alone. Who, exactly, would be flitting around a graveyard at this hour? A flicker of empty disdain crossed her features. It was, most likely, a human. Out here, alone, in the dead of night...well, she supposed there was no need to play nice. It was so tempting to simply snuff out their life like a candle flame - but her rather bloodthirsty thoughts were brought to a screeching halt at the sight of the being climbing out of the grave. Those orange horns were strikingly familiar - reminiscent of the ones she'd seen on the two trolls in the park, where they'd confronted the pathetically tragic demon-man in denial. That pair had been very interesting indeed...and was this being, perhaps, a member of the same species? It was difficult to discern any further features; his face was oddly obscured with black ribbon, but...still, Sarafine's curiosity was piqued. He was not human. And that was enough reason to keep him alive, for now.

But what would he be doing in a human graveyard? It looked like he'd just finished digging, and that - well, that was just perplexing. Perhaps his species did not have that instinctive fear of the dead, as humans seemed to, but what would compel him to devote his time to this? Only one way to find out, she supposed - and perfect timing, too, as he seemed to have noticed her.

"Evening!" she chirped in her sweet-as-honey, South Carolinian drawl (though perhaps such regional distinctions would go unnoticed by someone who was...well, from a different planet). "Didn't expect to run into anyone else out here, I have to admit - exactly who and...mm, what are you, if you don't mind my askin'?" She flashed him a dazzling smile in a striking imitation of human friendliness, and smoothed her dress as if a bit ruffled and startled by the encounter. Well, this could be classified as a distraction, but maybe it was one that was worth her time.

[gravedigger]

Be Polite- The first rule Ursano had been introduced to by his fellow gravediggers in this new world. They had shared the code with their oh so willing to learn brother. He had sat at their feet and listened as they talked. His eagerness encouraging them and the first one was simply that. A Gravedigger had to Be Polite. If digging, talking, or even interviewing a trespasser he was supposed to Be Polite... even if the person you were talking to was an intruder that you might end up having to drop into an empty grave after you club them to death with your shovel. Just because they didn't follow the rules didn't mean you shouldn't, and seeing as the 'humans' of this world seemed more akin then his own people... at least in aspects of The DUTY he supposed their rules made sense... back on Alternia he probably would have hit the female in the face with his shovel and started digging the next grave already.

Besides the question was a valid one. His fellows had been a bit confused about him when they had first met him but they had been impressed by his seriousness about The DUTY so things in time had worked out. But... it was kinda a rude way to ask but again on the the other hand... was their a polite way to ask that question? If so he didn't know and was supposed to keep it to a downlow because he was technically an extremely illegal, extremely alien visitor to the world. He did not want to go to 'the pokey' it sounded unpleasant to the extreme. So thus he went with...

"(8= i am a perfecTly normal hUman graveDigger wiTh noThing UnUsual about him aT all."

His eyes went to the ribbon surrounding them and he spoke again in those dry rasping tones.

"(8= .... besides a horrible skin condiTion... ThaT is whY i keep mY skin covereD..."

He said this completely forgetting that one... he was a horrible liar... and two, that he had horns growing out his head his explanation did not cover. His eyes narrowed suspisiouly at the woman.

"(8= anD YoUrself ma'am? whaT are YoU Doing in This graveYarD so laTe?"

[Sarafine Duchannes]

..Well. Whatever he was, he evidently had reason to lie about it - which she could understand all too well. There were few things that made her more bitter than the way humanity stifled the existence of so many other species. Casters themselves had been forced to hide what they were, to live in constant fear of discovery, to blend in - and she was sick of it. Though at least for them, in was easier. They didn't have horns. Or... 'skin conditions'. If this creature was a troll like the other two Sarafine had met, however, she couldn't understand why he was so concerned with hiding when the other two hadn't been. Then again, they had evidently been royalty. Understandably, perhaps hiding was beneath them.

"Oh, I know normal - and I certainly know humans, and...I'd say you're neither." she remarked, her smile widening a bit as her gaze flickered pointedly to his horns. "For one thing, humans don't have those. But! You have nothing to be afraid of. I understand the need for secrecy all too well." She didn't see the harm in revealing that information to him - in fact, hopefully it would make him less inclined to hide things from her. Still, she didn't quite fancy walking away now until her curiosity had been satisfied. There were...stranger places to have a conversation, she supposed. She wasn't particularly bothered by it, and she imagined he wouldn't be either, if he actively chose to work here. But now he was the one asking questions - as she supposed was inevitable. Walking through a graveyard, alone, at night, was not something that typically went unquestioned.

"Enjoying the scenery!" The reply was punctuated with something a little less like a smile and a little more like a smirk, to indicate that she was joking - though his appreciation for humor had yet to be gauged. But if Sarafine was going to answer him seriously, she needed to decide how detailed said answer was going to be. Giving him the full 'witchcraft' explanation right off the bat didn't seem like the brightest idea, even if he wasn't human. Her gaze flickered downward in brief, feigned sheepishness. "No - honestly, if I told you the truth, you'd probably think me very strange. I don't imagine most people find grave sites particularly peaceful - let alone ideal places for meditation." It wasn't the entire truth, perhaps, but it was part of it - and he was lucky to get that much for now. Still, it may not have been enough to keep him from being...entirely suspicious, and she hesitated a moment longer before furrowing her brow slightly.

"Oh, but you probably weren't expecting company, to say the least. I...hope I'm not disturbing you?"

[gravedigger]

Inwardly Ursano mildly cursed. He was dealing with yet ANOTHER perceptive human. He would never understand how these human's kept seeing through his flawless disguise and webs of lies. He only had to speak for a couple of minutes before they would tell him it was okay that he wasn't human and pat him on the head... or on a couple of other occasions he had to dig a couple of quick holes... but that seemed the rarity. Shrugging inside he was glad this human female didn't seem to be the type, instead she was the pat on the head type... he just hoped she wouldn't hug him and tell him 'it is all going to be okay stranger from another world' like the last one... that had been truly uncomfortable.

Besides it seems that perhaps that she was a bit of a kindred soul to him and the other Gravediggers. He was shattered from his musing as she said she liked to use graveyards to meditate. Within his mask he grinned a bit though was glad for the bandages because they soaked up the bit of drool that leaked out his damaged lips. He pretended not to be surprised but his body language would have fooled no one.

"(8= You also finD The graveYard relaxing ma'am? ThaT is quiTe the rariTY. mosT hu...people i have meeT on This plan.... coUnTrY.... seem To FinD The graveYard quiTe.... creepY... and cooky, mYsTerioUs and spookY aT nighT."

Ursano regarded the woman intently for a moment before extending his hand as the gravediggers had taught him.

"(8= mY name is Ursano sevarg. i am a Troll and i Dig graves and proTecT The dead."

He stared at her. Letting her make the next move.

[Sarafine Duchannes]

Well, he seemed quite pleased - surprised, but pleased - to find that she hardly minded the cemetery either. If only he knew what sort of Caster rituals took place here - then perhaps he wouldn't be quite so enthusiastic. She blinked her yellow, catlike eyes at him, and then seemed to brighten entirely - beaming at him as if she was pleased as punch to have found something they apparently had in common. "Oh, my kind don't find the dark and gloom foreboding, not at all." Sarafine commented lightly, pretending not to have noticed that he'd nearly called her a human. Normally, she would have had to keep herself from bristling at such a comparison, but now she remained as warm and cheery as ever, letting her comment do all the hinting.

"Besides, I personally don't think death is anything to shy away from, do you? Or...not the dead, at least. They're just a few pages ahead in their stories than we are." Glancing around at the gravestones to emphasize, she gave a light shrug. She knew for a fact that death wasn't the end - not for Casters, at least, though she wouldn't pretend to know anything about the sort of afterlife Mortals experienced. Casters, and those associated with them, had the Otherworld. And she'd been there herself.

Refocusing on the troll who'd introduced himself as Ursano, she inclined her head slightly at his words. "It's lovely to meet you, Ursano. My name is Sarafine - Sarafine Duchannes." She reached out and politely shook the hand he'd offered, although she didn't let the contact linger for too long - as a Dark Caster, her skin was chillingly cold, as if she'd just submerged her hands in a bucket of ice (whereas Light Casters radiated an almost electric warmth). It was a trait that tended to provoke a lot of questions - or at least make people aware that something was off. She had no intention of lingering on it, however, and instead drew back and decided to focus on the job he'd mentioned.

"That's quite an honorable occupation, by the way." she mused after a moment. Her expression was intrigued, but her body language relaxed, as if this piece of information didn't make her even the least bit dubious. "Most people wouldn't even even think their own dead were worthy of protection, and yet here you are, acting as a guardian to the cemetery of another species." Perhaps someone with such ties could be useful to her. Still, she had to wonder exactly why he'd chosen this occupation, of all things - what had drawn him here. Was it a specific, unusual interest, or one that all trolls shared?

[gravedigger]

Ursano looked at the woman and smiled again, confident in the knowledge that his scarred face was not visible through his facial bindings not yet noticing that a section of ribbon was separating, peeling back revealing the scared side of his mouth, part of the section missing lips exposing light blue gums and razor sharp saw blade teeth. He didn't notice a small bit of drool unable to be restrained without lips flow down the teeth only to be absorbed by the ribbon.

"(8= TrUThfUlly YoU woUlD be sUrpriseD mosT pleasantlY. This worlD seems To possess aloT more respecT for The DeaD anD The DUTY... back... back..."

Within his mask Ursano's face twisted more then usual in disgust and rage. The exposed section of mouth opened revealing more of the damaged flesh and sharp teeth. Without warning he spun away from the woman as he swung his shovel through the air so hard it whistled as he spun and by sheer dint of strength and skill stopped it a hairbreadth from a tombstone. For a moment he held his place, his body frozen in position before a muffled sigh was heard and his body seemed to slump. The shovel lowering till it almost touched the ground. He then squared his shoulders and seemed to grow with a determination and once more he turned to face her. He held up a hand in a placating gesture. Waving off the burst of intense rage as if incidental.

"(8= i mUsT apologize ma'am."

Reaching down with his free hand he pulled on the lapels of his coat straightening them and then brushed some dirt off his coat as if the whole incident was as mild as a dirty coat before returning his gaze to her.

"(8= i believe YoU woUlD be sUrpriseD aT how liTTle DisregarD mY fellow Trolls have for The DeaD. TheY feD Them To Their lUcUses. Drag Them aroUnD like toYs, painT wiTh The blooD of The DeaD, even fling Them aT Things. back home mY care for the Dead earned me The repuTaTion for being jUsT a DangerioUs freak. if i haD noT enDeD Up here i woUlD probablY have been cUlleD. cUlleD becaUse i care, cUlleD for Doing whaT iT Takes To sTop Trolls from Digging Up The graves i Dig... cUlleD for knowing ThaT rUsT blooD or pUrple blooD...in The enD iT alllll roTs. cUlleD for... being as i am."

He shook his head as if clearing his head and then took in the graves around him. Regarding them with a zealot's eye as he took in the beauty.

"(8= while here... i geT paiD for whaT i UseD To Do for free... YoU hUmans are alrighT."

[Sarafine Duchannes]

If there was one thing she hadn't been expecting, it was the sudden burst of rage the troll displayed in the next moment. Suddenly the shovel in his hands had become a weapon, coming dangerously close to swinging into a tombstone - an action which she imagined had enough strength behind it to break the stone block right in half. If Sarafine was still capable of experiencing real emotion, she might have been stunned - or even fascinated. As it was, she felt a distant flicker of interest and briefly acknowledged that someone who possessed such strength might have made a very interesting ally indeed. Outwardly, however, she had the sense to force a reaction that anyone else might have had. Her golden-yellow eyes widened, and she moved several paces backwards in a motion that almost seemed instinctive and fear-based, until Ursano seemed to have calmed down.

She was silent for a moment as he turned back around - simply watching him, her eyes wide as ever. It wasn't until he began to speak again that she made a show of gradually relaxing. "...Well. Don't you worry about it. Your anger is quite understandable, if what you say is true." she murmured after a moment, smoothing her gown with her hands as if attempting to compose herself. A moment ago, Sarafine might have corrected him - she didn't think all too highly of the way Mortals treated their dead - but in comparison with the culture the troll seemed to be used to, she had to admit that it seemed downright civilized.

"I had no idea - I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with your species' culture. A couple of months ago, I did meet a few of your kind, but they were considerably more...disapproving of humanity, you might say." Actually, she'd found the troll empress and her little friend quite amusing, not to mention infinitely interesting - and helping them antagonize the demon-man to the point where he'd all but exploded from rage had even been something resembling fun. But of course, she wouldn't mention any of that now.

"I, myself, am not human, by the way - so I'm afraid your compliments are lost on me." Sarafine added as an afterthought, punctuating her words with another smile. She thought she might as well let him know, since this was the second time he'd referred to her as a Mortal - a comparison that was starting to kill her inside, a little.

[gravedigger]

Ursano tilted his head a bit as he regarded the being he had assumed was human. He looked closer at her and admitted that he really didn't see much of a difference... any in face. The odd not black hair. The skin that odd peach color. Admittedly the yellow eyes were more attractive then most of the eye colors that he had seen but really he didn't see and difference but he put it up to his own ignorance. He reached up and pulled his hat off his head and put it against his heart as he bowed to the woman.

"(8= oh i am most sorrY ma'am. i mUst aDmiT i am.. Unable to iDenTifY YoUr kinD... i am rather new to this planet."

With that he straightened his back. No point in over doing the sorry and placed the hat back on his head and ran his hand down his covered face. More then a little embarrassed. His gloved fingers ran down the bandages till the tips got caught in the section where the ribbon had separated a bit. He felt in the crack... and touched his withered remains of his lips, his exposed teeth... and his shoved the tip of his shovel into the ground as he raised his other hand to cover it as he used the first to try to pull it back in place. To cover back up.

He frantically turned his head as his fingers got more and more caught, his finger's touch dulled by the gloves he pulled... and the ribbon with little give compared to his usual bandages broke and the taunt ribbon loosened and unraveled from his face. He held his hands away in shock as the black silk pieces fell and the lower half of his face was exposed. What was lit by the moon was scars... scars and ruination. It seemed sometime in his past something had literally ripped off his lips. Something with claws. The withered flesh from where the scars had puckered revealed his sawtooth mouth. His blue gums exposed in the harsh moon. More began to come into view as more of the ribbons started to unwind but was halted as he clamped his hands to his face holding the ribbon in place. He had taken his breather mask off when the conversation began to better be heard but now he reached to where it hung from his neck and slipped it over the broken mass of ribbon covering his face once more.

He looked around and tried to appear as if nothing had happened as he reclaimed his shovel. He looked to the.. not human and mumbled.

"(8= ... someTimes The Dead Don'T wanT To resT"

[Sarafine Duchannes]

His embarrassment for having mistaken her for human seemed genuine, Sarafine noted - and she relaxed a little at that. "Don't fret over it; it's not as if you could have been expected to know. We Casters are meant to - well, you know - blend in." Light Casters tended to have an easier time of it than their Dark counterparts, though - green eyes, however electric and vibrant, were less noticeable than yellow cat-like ones. She felt a distant, far-off, but none the less there flicker of anger upon acknowledging the fact they they even needed to hide in the first place. This world was changing, its inhabitants becoming more diverse, and yet her own race was still to wary to even reveal themselves to humanity. Sarafine couldn't say she blamed them, given the long and antagonistic history they shared with humans - and given that there were still plenty of them around who seemed less than content to share their world with other species. Still, it was...mildly infuriating, that they felt so entitled to their status as the supposed 'dominant' species.

She was so very tired of hiding.

Sarafine was distracted from her brooding thoughts, however - for Ursano continued to prove to be a rather unpredictable companion. She'd assumed the bandages wrapped around the lower part of his face were there to hide some sort of injury, though she hadn't been too concerned over what it might be. Nor had she imagined that the damage was quite this...extensive. As he struggled in vain to hold the ribbons in place, only to have them slip away, she tilted her head a little to one side to try and get a better look at what he was so ashamed of. Sarafine wasn't one to shy away from grim injuries or gore - when you were a Cataclyst who was so strongly drawn to the element of fire, you tended to get fairly acquainted with grim burn wounds and worse - but this was...mildly surprising. The skin around his mouth had been torn away, leaving his gums and fangs fearsomely exposed. Rather than cringe away or feel any real sense of horror, her first reaction was to wonder how he'd obtained such injuries. It was mildly fascinating, but for his sake, she'd have to put on a show of concern.

...Or...perhaps something different. The moment he struggled to cover his mouth again, avoiding her gaze, Sarafine's eyes narrowed slightly. Only a moment ago, she'd been bristling over how wrong it was to have to hide for society's sake, and now she felt a slight twinge of the same indignation on Ursano's behalf. When she spoke again, however, it was in a softened, more gentle tone. "Oh, no please - there's no need to bother with all of that." She told him, offering a faint smile. "It doesn't bother me a bit. You don't need to hide." At least not here and now, at any rate. She imagined humans were much more easily frightened than she was, and that this troll was used to disguising his injuries for their sake - or perhaps, his own. It was a pity, that this was what this world forced people into.

[gravedigger]

Ursano held the mask against his face pressing the ribbons where they broke. Covering his face, keeping his gaze adverted so he wouldn't see her disgust. Another one to look down on him. Another to revile him. He had no shame in his job. He had pride in it... but the masks were there not only to protect him.... but protect his spirit. Before he had worn them to protect his ability to walk amongst others as someone who was not a gravedigging freak. He had worn them as The Gravedigger... and walked around in a t-shirt... but time was not kind. One undead walker. One lucky lucky undead... and his face had been ripped. Torn by it's touch. Then... he had lost his other side... they saw the skull like face... the face of one touched by the undead... Ursano had truely died that way. A troll who used his name walked around but really The Gravedigger had been the survivor. Because no one could look at Ursano... so all that was left was The Gravedigger.

So when he heard this... Caster told him not to hide. That it didn't bother her. He was shocked. So far he had seen people of this world more surprised by gore and scars then his own kind but she... he had to turn and look at her... and even gape. He pulled back the mask to talk and as he did more of the ribbons slipped. It revealed a ear that had been mostly torn off. A scar down over his eye that had sliced open the eyelids on that eye leaving it forever open, leaving a gray dead looking eye that nontheless tracked as if it could see... something, and black mistreated hair poked through as well. He looked at her truly surprised.

"(8= ah sUppose if This was one of YoUr earTh siTcoms i woUlD know whaT To saY. know whaT To saY To know if YoU were serioUs... bUT i am noT so I mUsT ask. are YoU so sUre?"

His grip shifted on his shovel subconciously... he did not want to be mocked.

[Sarafine Duchannes]

His hesitation was to be expected. After all, it couldn't be often that he got a reaction like the one she'd just given, in this world. There was a time when Sarafine's encouragement would have been heartfelt, when she would have been completely invested in convincing Ursano of this for his own welfare. Now, however, she was simply determined to make her point, and to squash a little more of the oppressive power humans held in this world. Still, she was far from inexperienced in giving a properly convincing emotional reaction at the right time. Even as more of his injuries came into view, Sarafine didn't flinch. In fact, at his words, her expression softened as much as her cold, glowing eyes would allow it to, and she took on a fainter, more gentle smile.

"I am absolutely positive." she told him, more seriously. How much would be appropriate to say here? He clearly needed convincing, so she was probably going to need to elaborate a little. "I'm sure you do enough hiding around the humans - and I certainly know how frustrating that can be, believe me." 'Frustrating' was putting it a bit lightly when it was more or less the thing Sarafine loathed most, but she didn't betray any of those thoughts now. But in truth, she was also rather intrigued by his injuries. She wanted to ask how he'd gotten them, but that seemed a little tactless, especially at this particular moment. Maybe she could poke around the subject once he'd relaxed a little again - she wasn't too sure how much of a sore spot this was for him just yet, and she didn't want to scare him off. There was a chance she could use all of this to gain his trust, and there was no telling how useful that might prove to be in the future.

Her smile finally faltered a little, as if it'd been chased away by more unwelcome thoughts - like having to hide what she was was a necessary but unfortunate circumstance that saddened her, rather than infuriated her. "It seems we're both quite different, you and I - but in my opinion, that isn't anything to be even remotely ashamed of." This time, her voice regained a little of its firmness, and she proudly lifted her chin a bit to emphasize her point. "If you wish to hide your injuries because they remind you of some unpleasant memory, then that's one thing - but please, don't do it because you worry about what others will think of you. In the end, it isn't really worth it."