"Bell-eh-veev! Not Believe!" She chirped. It was a common error. So common that she didn't bat an eye to it. "Bellevieve Stone. I have business cards if you need them..! Oh.." The necromancer offered, delighted, although her confidence faltered at last second. He hardly seemed the type to carry around such a thing. Especially if he was as skeptical and superstitious as she was reading him to be... "Not that it matters! I'm sure you'd be able to find me if need be. I'll stop following you now. Have a good day..! And I mean it!" One broad wave later, and she'd spin around back towards her shop.
"My magic and their spirit?" She giggled, before shaking her head. "No, no. That's silly. You sound like an old man, wary of the new age! It's all very natural. I pull their spirit from the other side myself. Magic is only used to help the spirit settle into the body." Of course she was leaving out plenty of information, but no one liked to hear about the more controversial parts of the process. "Bellevieve Stone is my name. If you ever change your mind."
"What?" She blinked, genuinely confused. "I am borrowing from Death. I do return them! After my client has finished with the reunion. That's what I sell. An hour or two with a loved one. It's innocent, I swear." She smiled.
"I can use my head, but not everyone uses theirs! Not to mention- have you seen a phoenix feather before? They are simply gorgeous. And when it is reborn, oh, it catches flame! I would have kept one..." Absentmindedly, she fiddled with the small feline skull holding her top together. In her head, she was daydreaming of adding a little feather to her already-cluttered wardrobe. But the thought passed.
"You're right. Some could track you...but that's why I was offering to take them off your hands. Or if you do complete a job, and need a little extra cash, you could possibly risk it to deliver. I'm in awfully dire need of a Minotaur horn for a client, you see. And you don't have to kill it! You never do for me. I'd prefer you didn't."
She took her 'compliment' happily, and grinned wide.
"Thank you! But I never thought of you as a collector. I thought of you as a brute that might keep grotesque trophies!" She explained. There was no hint of malice in her voice, nor did she ever mean to insult. "Souvenirs, basically!"
"Neither!" She chirped. The response was enough to cause her to part from her path and turn around to follow his. Whether or not he desired it, he now had a pesky shadow. "I'm a necromancer. Bringing the dead back to the world of the living is my profession, service, and life. I don't deal much in charms, either...but I'm sure you can see why I wanted those things from you."
That time he hit a nerve. The clicking of her heels halted, and she turned around to face him once more. She wasn't angry (the aloof thing never was), but her head tilted to the side as she tried to uncover the reasons for his strong distaste.
"When you deal with corpses and widows all day, work can be dreary. It is astounding what bright colors and glitter can do for the spirits. What is your excuse, Mister?"
"You don't have to be those things to experience loss." She hummed, and spun around on her heel.
"We all know death. He favors some over others (oh, such a tragic thing, too!), but we all know him." She sighs, airily. Then with a loving smile, he continues forward on her way. "I hope your spirits improve. Good day!"