[She stills, recognizing the voice. Barely, it's so quiet and even...but it's still identifiable as Blight to werewolf ears.
And on her end, it makes her smile, a small one that can be heard in the tremulous note of hope in her voice.]
You're not...him, are you? You're one of them...an infiltrator.
[She says the word with a child's breathless hope, like infiltrators are guardian angels and fairies and Santa Claus...like something to be cherished instead of destroyed.
After all, every one she's met so far has been precisely that.]
[voice ; private]
And on her end, it makes her smile, a small one that can be heard in the tremulous note of hope in her voice.]
You're not...him, are you? You're one of them...an infiltrator.
[She says the word with a child's breathless hope, like infiltrators are guardian angels and fairies and Santa Claus...like something to be cherished instead of destroyed.
After all, every one she's met so far has been precisely that.]