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New Year, Old Me?

It was cold, and the apartment was freezing. Malas was huddled miserably in her bed, swathed in blankets and dressed in several layers of wool sweaters, the chill still managed to seep its way into her. Her guardian had opted to forego paying any heating bills, then again, Irlan had no problem shifting his skin into the fur of an animal who was naturally suited for the cold. Malas pulled up the covers closer around her pointed ears, ear muffs proved difficult to acquire given their length and size.

It was evident she wasn't going to enjoy the day, and no amount of sugary treats could lift her mood. Sourly, though her face remained completely blank, she rose to leave the apartment. She'd head for the Unit, surely they'd have something called a heater there. Dressed warmly in thick fleece, Malas silently exited, not even bothering to leave a note for Irlan.

He wouldn't miss me, She thinks No one ever did. her Knot-self adds.

Things were... different in Kians little world. Certain things had left his mind distracted and at odds with what that other part of his mind said was logical and.. blah blah blah. ********. So he was at the Unit. Lissel had been decorating again, leaving Kian and Avrin to move the heavier things around.

He didn't mind, really. It was something to do and, while the bigger man was gone, Kian was able to relax. Cut-off jeans, a dark red wifebeater and tied back black hair was his uniform for the day, completed with a pair of beach-bum sandals. It was a relaxing day, for the most part, although the break left Kian lounging almost bonelessly on the rather fluffy couch. His head was even tilting back when he heard the front door open.

Instant awakeness, his eyes narrowed and head twisting to peer at the door. Who could it be?

It could very well have been a small, two-legged chocolate-colored sheep that walked into the Unit's main room. Well, minus the bleating, horns, and hoofs that is. Malas quickly closed the door behind her, and while it hadn't snowed for a while, the bright-skinned girl lacked insulation and was incredibly susceptible to the cold. Pushing the hood of her fleece-jacket back just enough to show her face, Malas made a small smile upon feeling the lovely toasty warmth of the Unit HQ.

She spied Kian on the couch and felt oddly apprehensive. She had purposely avoided the others after her encounter with Jera. Normally, the girl would have excused herself and left for home, but after all that effort to thaw Malas opted to stay. Maybe, just maybe her Knot-side wouldn't surface?

"Hello." She greeted the older teen softly, waving a mitten-clad hand.

"Hello." He responded, studying the odd girl with a small degree of caution. She was in the Unit so she wasn't some sort of intruder; as far as Kian knew, the only people who knew of the Unit was the Unit themselves. He had seen her, he had met her, but he had never gotten to know her like he had some of the other Unit members.

Luckily, the inside of the Unit home was warm. It meant that Malas could thaw out and be comfortable, despite having to hang around with the dark man. Kian himself had snow pants folded up all nice and pretty along with a jacket in one of the dorm rooms - walking around in the snow with shorts was not allowed, according to some.

"Are you cold? We have tea I believe. It is warm." No fuggin Duh, Kian. Oh well. he was trying.

Malas nodded in response, "Yes, it's cold at home." She explained, allowing the chill to be slowly replaced by the warmth before peeling off the numerous layers of clothing. "Thank you, I will have some tea, where is it?" She asked. Malas didn't like being fussed over, it made her feel strange. And by fussed over, that meant people being nice to her.

She properly folded the numerous jackets and mittens and began to look for a coat hanger or a small end table to put them on. "Is your house cold too?" She asked Kian, wondering if that was why the older teen was here.

"Kitchen." Kian replied, his voice still that usual, weird monotone. He pushed himself from the couch fully to pad into the aforementioned room, tail swinging idly behind him. The remnants of re-decorating were strewn about the moderately sized room; a small end table littered the cabinet near the dishwasher and the kitchens table was covered with throw pillows.

He made a beeline for the stove where a kettle, dark red and rather plain for a teapot, rested on a warm stovetop. Careful fingers took the handle, still a bit clumsy with his fingers to hold the kettle correctly. "The mugs are over there." The alien nodded slightly to a cabinet, obviously expecting Malas to do as 'asked' as his hands were full of tea. "No. My home is very warm but it is loud and Lissel asked a favor of me. I complied."

Once she had placed her belongings out of the way, Malas followed after Kian. She knew him from the store and even before then but that had been a brief encounter that felt like it was eons ago. At the instructions of where the mugs were, 'Las automatically made a beeline towards the location. Wordlessly, she took out two mugs before maneuvering her way around the somewhat cluttered kitchen to quickly wash the mugs in the sink. Quickly because Kian was waiting with the tea and because it meant getting wet and the cold dampness made 'Las uncomfortable.

"Is Lissel a sibling?" she seemed to feel the need to continue the conversation. So long as they were in the same room and so long as Kian was paying her attention, Malas would speak. She only hoped her Knot-self would not find a reason to emerge.

Kian was wordless as he poured the tea slowly into the two mugs. Once the task was done, the tea kettle was put back and one of the mugs taken gingerly from the smaller girl. ...okay, so she was almost as tall as him. Kian was more stocky then he was tall and lanky and most of the pre-teens and older kids were almost his height. Dee was a long baby; she would be able to rival Iamel in height when she was older.

"No." He said, after a little sip of the tea. "Lissel is a Crimminal, as we are. But she is small and fluffy. Cute. And she makes you warmer. So when she asked, I had nothing of further importance to do, so I agreed."

The dark alien made a face into his tea, turning to the fridge. "We have honey."

Malas gave a small smile, Lissel sounded like someone she might like. Not necessarily engage in a conversation with, but if given the chance she might enjoy being in her presence. As much as she might have wanted to meet her, Malas wasn't the sort who voiced her thoughts unless asked. The pre-teen looked curiously at the fridge, she wasn't familiar with the bee byproduct. "Huni?" she echoed a little confused, recalling the red-haired woman that Irlan seemed to enjoy antagonizing.

Kian opened the door and pulled out a small bear-shaped jar of the thick amber stuff. "Honey. Bees make it. It is sweet." Two spoons were kidnapped once he set the honey down, Kians mug soon following. He filled one spoon with honey, dropping it into his tea.

The second spoon was filled in a likewise manner and held out to Malas. "Try it. If you enjoy it, you may put some in your tea. It helps it taste sweeter."

Malas watched keenly, the honey-container reminded her of the gummy bears she was particularly fond of eating. Maybe it would taste like a gummy? After all, honey and gummy sounded the same and if it was sweet the way Kian said it was, it must be good.

She accepted the spoon without tasting it before tipping it over, letting the honey drizzle down into the tea. It was a slow process but it fascinated Malas simply because it reminded her of that show on television where the host made homemade goodies. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, not enough to call it an actual smile, but enough to indicate she was becoming more relaxed. "This is fun." she admitted as the honey dribbled and oozed down from the spoon to the tea.

There was something almost hypnotic about the way the viscuous liquid swirled and sank down to the cup's depths. Malas began to feel a little light-headed but she attributed it to having been so cold and suddenly becoming warm.

"Gaia has a way of making enjoyable things." He nodded briefly, voice light, almost soft. Kian flicked his fingers against the spoon, his utensil clanking sharply against the mug. The alien paid it no mind, two eyes on the liquid while the third watched Malas, shrewdly.


The silence ended, abruptly. Kians monotone cut through the air with a droll, deep tone, that single eye still on the young girl. "You are the young female who demanded candy." It wasn't a question. He hadn't intended it to be. "Who wished to have no formal bonds with the Unit. It is good, you being here."

Malas' ears twitched, nervous tick perhaps, but she took a long, slow drink of her tea before reacting. "It is in my experience that I require some form of coercion to be productive." She didn't think she needed to justify her reasons. Again the light-headed feeling was threatening to overwhelm her.

Calm.

Unseen tendrils started to seep from the ends of Malas' hair. The bright-skinned girl's eyes were downcast, staring deeply into her tea. Completely unaware of the tendrils that swirled and stretched towards Kian. They twisted, entwined and snuck into him through his skin just long enough to find something interesting.

A dark, obsidian smoke emerged from Kian before rushing straight towards Malas. The girl felt a pressure slam against her chest before she found the floor slamming against her back. The cup fell alongside her, shattering, spilling its heated contents on the floor. But 'Las didn't seem aware of anything else apart from the vision that she was literally projecting onto the ceiling. From her eyes shone a beam of light and from her slack-jawed mouth emerged voices that did not belong to her.



"It is not a bad thing to need." His voice would have, should have, been reassuring to the young female, fingers drumming gently on the nearest surface. "I am not starting an army either way; Tsu did not seem to disapprove. It -"

She was FALLING. Kian knew he had started talking a lot in recent months but no one had fallen over as of yet. Before her back had even hit the flood, he was on his feet, arms reaching for the small female. The chair clattered, claws reached when a color shot through his fingers, the webbing distorting the view a little.

The alien jerked back, his head flashing up towards the ceiling. Pictures. Him? Koreshan. Jo'nas Koreshan, who he had been. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, please no.

His skin had faded to a pasty gray, lips parted with a silent, rough noise. Kian sat abruptly, knees pulled up to his chest as the picture played on. Oh no no no no. Oh no.

'On screen', he was meeting the People. Oh, no. The start of it all. She shouldn't have to see this. Oh, no, no, no.

Malas' Knot-self was watching the memory play out in keen interest. Neither she nor Malas knew what this memory meant to Kian or whether it was what caused him to be entered into the ICRS program. Was that who he had been before he arrived on this wretched dump or someone important to him? However, this view into his mind required payment of equal worth.

As soon as the lights from Malas' eyes dimmed and the sounds faded from her open mouth, another memory played. This time, only Kian was privvy to it.

It was Knot when she was who she was. Dark hair, pale blue skin, tendrils for a lower half. She was reclined on a plush sofa within an antichamber, arms folded across her chest and eyes closed shut. Plastered across her lips was a manic smile akin to what most humans know as the cheshire cat's grin.

She was lost to the pleasures dancing behind her closed lids. Visions of sweet smiles and tender embraces, whispers of joyous secrets and silken promises. She was completely oblivious to the human-like man curled at the foot of the couch.

"What's going on? Why can't I remember what my Jenny wore on our first anniversary? Why can't I remember what was my little Lucas' first word?" he whimpered, rocking himself to calm down. Try as he might, the voids that were once his prized memories could not be filled. His whimpering escalated into full blown sobs that echoed loudly in the antichamber.

It was only when the man had ceased his crying and gone silent did Knot finally stir from her trance. "Hirum," she began as she sat up, "Hirum, as the last thing you will ever do as my personal assistant, please let the General know I will be needing a replacement for you."

The man known as Hirum rose wordlessly, the light from his eyes completely gone. He scribbled down on a pad in haphazard strokes the instruction Knot had given him before taking out a gun from inside his suit. He pointed the barrel of the gun to his temple and squeezed the trigger.

A soft click was heard before a peal of laughter erupted from Knot's lips. "You forgot to remove the safety. Evenize decided to drink the draining fluid from underneath the sink. Dovern just jumped out the window and Marion strangled himself with his own tie. You D'lawans certainly have boring ways of trying to kill yourselves." She shrugged and watched in amusement as Hirum turned the safety off before proceeding to blow his brain out.

The no's faded quickly from his mind as soon as the images did; his mind quickly shuffled that particular memory away into the back of his brains filing cabinet. Kian hated that memory. Hated it.

But there was now the girls thoughts (or so he asumed), of something very unlike the quiet girl before him. The dark alien watched in silence, face shuttering off from any sort of emotions, his mind blanking out. Where was Autsu when you needed someone to be more emotional then you? The stone-faced winged boy would have had a better time expressing himself at that moment then Kian did.

He waited. Once the scene was over - once his body had remained still at the sound and sight of the beings brains splattering along the surfaces of the memory, Kian slid over to the young girl. Malas was gathered up into his arms like an infant would have been, a pair of gold eyes watching her face.

"You need candy, I believe." He stated simply, voice once more flat, whether or not she was concious. "Perhaps a check on your head."

If the throbbing of her head hadn't been so great the corners of her lips might have curled into the bare hint of a smile at his suggestion of candy. Instead, Malas' response to Kian was a mere whimper.

She was grateful he did not demand anything of her the way Jera had. No explanation, no desire to have her further demonstrate this ability, just a calm statement about what must be done.

A small lump had formed on the back of her head from the impact of falling onto the floor. It wasn't severe enough to cause a concussion or anything severe but it still left a hammering sensation in the thin girl's head. Still, she forced herself to speak, "I won't tell anyone."

Initiative wasn't normally in Malas' nature unless sweets and candy were involved. Neither was gratitude and this foreign emotion seemed to prompt her to want to assure Kian she did not mean to pose as a threat to him.

Suspicious

Gist: In which Knot takes a gander at Irlan's own memories and promptly pisses him off

Birds And The Bees

It was the middle of the day, a beautiful shining bright day, and the birds were chirping. Somewhere, a black racer slithered through yards to eat at geckos, that ate the bugs, that humans screamed over, and elsewhere, the Unit house sat.

Avrin was out on a job, something about a gang war in a nearby town, and his voice had been that of a well-fed and smug cat. The idiot had probably provoked it himself, knowing how he was. What criminal could fault him for it? It wasn't as if they had never done anything wrong, even (especially) on Gaia. Lissel was off doing her own things - one could only assume to pet at poisonous scorpions or assure the man on death row that, no, no, he was a lovely man and, of course, he was going to be just fine.

Who the hell knew where Ques had gone. Kian had almost noticed low their stores of tea within the home; almost everyone liked tea. At least, the three eyed criminal did and with the speed it seemed to disappear, others would echo the sentiment, more then likely.

Kian, however, was not very inclined at the moment to think too much on things like snakes and geckos and tea. His attention was full of black skin and blue hair with wings to match. There was a lot of matching going on and breathing - there was a lot of breathing. Breathing and fingers. He rather liked fingers.

They had been sparring, before, on the back lawn. No one had been there and when they had stumbled into the Unit, still tense with adreniline and half-laughing with aggression, one of them had grabbed the other. He couldn't exactly remember who it was, but he remembered there was an attempt at the bedroom, an attempt cut short by certian red-tipped fingers hauling a piece of clothing off of the other. There was no more of that clothing to worry about.

Instead, Kians back was pressed tight against the raised doorframe, tail wedged between skin and wood, the sharp edges of the blades leaving scars into the dark walls. They had almost made it but now, with skin on skin, breath against his neck, and hands - well - everywhere, there had been no further movements towards the bedroom itself. They were on the cusp. That was enough.

One would see, when turning into The Unit - with it's wide open living room with few hallways - a clutch of black on black. The shorter of the figures, pressed roughly and making noises one would not want to define in order to keep their throat, had a leg hiked up around the tallers waist, arm around his shoulders and another pressed against the wall. Balance? Who knew. The taller's back was curved as he bent lower, perhaps from the pressure of arm on neck, and he was moving. He had wings (luckily?) - the contraptions could hide quite a bit of the movements, depending on where a person stood within the living room or hall.

Oh, those rapscallions.

A tall, waifish figure finds herself making her way towards The Unit's location. How long has it been since she has been here last? Days? Weeks? Months more likely. On one hand she can count the times she has been there, all days of note. Her encounter with the quadroped Jera, leading to the resurfacing of her abilities and spurring the revival of her Knot-self. Her attempt to thaw which led her to re-meet Kian, and again her powers make its presence felt.

So it only stood to reason that her return would be eventful. This time, however, she knows the cause behind her expectation. She has nothing on her person, apart from the clothes on her back. Long, emerald hair braided and dangling heavily behind her. Small, multi-colroed ribbons were woven in her locks, some messy, some neat. None of it her doing.

Her "Aunt" and "cousins" had decided to play dress up with and since she has been staying on their charity (which both Malas and Knot detests) she allowed them the run of her wardrobe and stylings. Irlan had evicted her a week after she had once again grown. He gave no reason other than he was being himself and strangely Malas accepted it without question.

She really hasn't changed much since her exile, has she? Slim fingers twist at the doorknob leading to the Unit's interior. The knob silently turns though not silently enough as metal squeaks and the wood scuffs against the floor. She repeats the practiced request she has in her mind, silvery blue raised in concentration.

As she enters the threshold, she focuses her gaze on the living room and her mind promptly blanks at the sight of a dark figure. No, wait, two dark figures performing a rather... unusual exercise? Dance? What the frell were they doing?

Normally, it did not take much to put Autsu on alert. He had come to Gaia with a warriors senses, and on Gaia, he had honed the edge of his awareness to a much sharper blade. Why? Best not to ask. Sometimes people did things. Maybe out of pride, maybe just to stay sane.

But nevermind that. The point being that normally, Autsu would have been aware of Malas from the moment the door so much as began to open, would have reacted, pulled the two of them into the cover of a room until the new presence could be identified as friend or foe. And that would have been a good idea, really.

But this wasn't normally. His mind was singing with the close sounds of Kian's breathe, and he was not, therefore listening for the door. His senses were attuned only to the very close, and in comparison, the door was very far. So it wasn't until Malas had in fact entered The Unit that Autsu's trained senses became aware of her, and he cut his movements off, mid-gasp, to react.

He did not freeze. Only fools froze. No, one of his enormous wings flew up, a shield between the intruder and himself and Kian. This was not a matter of modesty, but he much preferred an injury to his wings then to his unguarded person, or Kian. They were useless anyway.

At the same time, he dropped to his knees, so that he might obtain one of the weapons that littered the floor. A gun would be best, but as they'd been sparring, he'd disarmed himself of all but his knives. So he picked up the machete, not the best choice as he'd prefer to avoid hand to hand combat while undefended, but it'd do. Kian's staff, he twisted to vertical, so the other might take it. All this within seconds, and only then did he even attempt to identify whether or not the 'threat' was one in fact.

It'd been a long time since he'd seen Malas, and his mind did not call her to mind as more than 'familiar'

Kian didn't even hear the door squeak or register the entrance; Autsus fingers had tightened to leave bruises on black flesh and - and that was when he pulled away. A stopped breath and Autsu was gone, Kians chest cold with the cool air. He actually whimpered, almost went limp against the wall. Instead, his body twisted to action as Autsus did, one taloned hand grabbing his staff from his second.

He manuvered out from behind Autsus wings; bodyguard be damned, he was a leader. First into battle, last to leave. The alien was about to growl out a threat to the intruder until he finally saw who it was.

"Malas?" Oh, if only he was better at voicing surprise. His tail whipped around, in front of Autsu to keep him from harming the girl or doing anything rash. Kian grabbed at his pants with the tip of his staff and flipped the pants up. "You - I. Apologies."

What ELSE could he say? It was the Unit, a home for all of their kin. No one had to knock or have reason to come. It was open. ... As was his fly. Kian growled, a noise that sounded suspiciously foul, and zipped up. It hurt only a little. Not enough to think about.

The commonplace blank expression on the female teenager's face has always been a careful mask to cover the internal monologues she sometimes had. Her thoughts are rarely expressed into words (not because she believes them to be precious but because she feels her opinions hold very little meaning and therefore irrelevant) unless asked beforehand to respond. It is only normal for Malas to show no emotion, no indication of what it was going on inside her head regardless of the situation.

This time, well, the blank glaze of her face was an apt mirror of her thoughts. Really, Malas had no idea what she just walked into or what she was intruding upon. If her guardian had schooled her in manners, she would have thought to look away or turn around. From the way she continued to stare at them it was clear she had not been taught anything apart from what she already knew from her Knot-self's life back home.

But as the two figures before her separate into armed defensive stances, the gravity of the situation began to register in the bright-skinned alien's mind. She stiffens but keeps her hands to her sides. She makes no motion to defend herself, thinking it appropriate that she be punished for interrupting whatever it was the two were doing.

If the female's brain was not filled with the static of confusion she might have recognized the wings to be Autsu's (despite not really remembering his name). With considerable effort she managed to recognize Kian even if he was (they were both) sorely lacking in the clothing department. The only indication that Malas was severly uncomfortable (apart from the rigidity of her body) was the darkening tinge of her cheeks.

Kian's words reach her ears, but she misunderstands what he meant and expresses in earnest: "I'm sorry."

Whether she knew what she was sorry for (and honestly she isn't really familiar with the intimate act she had interrupted) was beside the point.

While Autsu didn't recognize Malas on sight, he had memorized the name and file of every criminal they knew of. The name then (not to mention Kian's tail) was enough to turn off his instinctual guardian response and allow him to think rationally.

He kept his wings up in front of himself, his gaze going from Kian to Malas and back again. Unlike Kian, he didn't instantly reach for his pants, confusion at how to react to the whole situation other than shooting things making him a bit slow. Still, the pants went on, and certainly that was a step in the right direction.

Now, it'd be inaccurate to claim that Autsu didn't relate sex and shame. Certainly, he had a list of hang ups about ten miles long on the subject. But when it came to the situation at hand, none of those usual hang ups were badly tripped. Malas was, in his mind, as adult as they, and he'd never tried to hide the nature of his relationship with Kian from anyone. (Unless, of course, one counted himself.)

"Comrade," he greeted her. "Do you have need of us?"

Fully intending to drag Kian into a bedroom to finish what had only begun if she didn't require them.

The apology from Malas made his eyebrow twitch, just slightly, and she received a vaguely queer look from the stocky alien. Autsu was calming down beside him (which was good, as Kian didn't want to have to punch him in the face or something to make him stop from going insta!guard on Malas) and Kian slowly lowered his tail. Calm Autsu meant no bloodshed. Right now. So did a calm Kian, for that matter.

"Do not be sorry. You are not required to apologize." This time, anyway.

At least it wasn't Rothe. Or Iamel. While Autsu might be fine flying high and nude and grinding in public, Kian did not join him on that opinion. The thought of Rothe walking in... It made his soul die, just a little.

But it was Malas.

He yanked his head right back into the conversation, where Autsu was speaking, and then it was his turn. His main two eyes were still trained on Malas, the third having rolled back and slid closed a bit ago.

Slowly, mental functions return to Malas as the tension in the room is dispelled. In a manner of speaking. Her shoulders relax, her arms hang slack by her sides. Even if Kian tells her she was not required to apologize, she would have regardless. She still would, to be frank.

At Autsu's question, Malas wishes her reason for visiting the Unit was casual and unimportant. She also wishes that either of them had told her to return later when they were finished doing whatever it was they were doing. But as it stands, she would have to explain the necessity of her visit.

"I am in need of a new home." She states quietly, neither pleased nor dismayed. "I... hope that the Unit might know of an acceptable domicile I might move into."

The bright-skinned female doesn't elaborate why she needs a new home, there was no point in telling them that her guardian had decided upon her last growth she had to fend for herself.

There were two 'dorms' or 'barracks' in the Unit's housing. One was, at least unofficially, Autsu's room. He slept there regularly, as did Avrin when he was around. And, well, Autsu and Kian both slept there on those occasions when they faded out into pleasurable drowsiness.

The other room was less often used, though the occasional person crashed in one of the beds. It was to that one, the one further down the hallway that Autsu looked toward.

He had pants now, though he didn't look entirely happy about the fact. Or even, slightly happy about the fact, cold zipper being what (and where) it was.

But he wasn't mad at Malas, who was using the Unit in exactly the way it was designed to be used.

"The Unit is your home, comrade, for as long as you wish. The quarters down the hall should serve you well."

He considered. There was more to say, if this was to be a welcome. "The rooms are simple, with sleeping pallets. If you require more, Lissel can acquire what you need."

The cold zipper probably came to even more of an upset as Kians hand, clawed and sleek, slid down the length of Autsus arm from elbow to wrist. It wrapped around him there, his hold firm. Had it been a restraining touch, that would have been fine. In fact, to many, it probably did look as if he were attempting to keep his comrade restrained, although from doing what it wouldn't have been visible. If not for the fact that Kian ran his thumb discreetly, firmly, over his lovers pulse just under his palm, even he would have thought it.

His face remained neutral, as it often was, eyes sliding down the hall area where the house laid, and then back to Malas. Kian's hand stayed put. Unless Autsu was to pull it away, he would keep it there.

"It is why the Unit is here, 'Las. You are well?" She looked ill at ease, still. His hand gave a brief tug at Autsus, back, towards the bedroom. "Is there anything else you have need of?"

Dear lord, please don't let there be questions.

Malas still feels as if she had made a grave error for coming to the Unit in the first place. Despite the assurances that she had nothing to apologize for and that she was in her right to visit, she could not ignore the sense of stupidity coupled with guilt gnawing in the back of her mind. If she were a more expressive individual, her unease would be seen in not just the slight droop of her ears or the lack of eye contact she made with either males.

"Thank you." she tells them, her gaze mapping out the path to her new lodgings. She nods at Kian's inquiry on her well being, she was alright, physically. She was not dependent on her guardian but it was still slightly upsetting to her that he had no qualms about abandoning her. She supposes she should have known better.

"Everything is fine." she sounds as if she is speaking more to herself than to Kian and Autsu.

It will not occur to Malas to ask what exactly it was they were doing as she had never been inquisitive of nature. At least, not now in the actual moment. But she did have one question that was of interest to her considering she would be staying here, "Does this ritual of yours happen often?"

She means no malice in asking, she simply wanted to know so that in the future she would be able to avoid getting in the way.