Redhawk Caldera [joining] smoke and mirrors

Pantaleimon wasn't used to anyone finishing her sentences. She wasn't actually used to anyone paying that much attention to what she said at all, except to find faults in her words, or to tell her to stop having an opinion or start doing useful Consort things. Most Sirens she'd known, though, they didn't care that much for what Pantaleimon had to say, especially her trailing-off-because-I-forgot-what-I-wanted-to-say sentences.

"Oh! Uhm..." Pantaleimon smiled uncomfortably as she said, "I-if you'll have me..." That was a sentence she could finish, even if it made her feel nervous to do so.

As Peregrine asked if he could call her Pan, Pantaleimon nodded. It's what Reek had called her, and what most did. Pantaleimon quietly reminisced the early death of her own preferred nickname as a child -- Leia -- as she nodded. "Yes, uhm... P-Pan is fine." Pan looked up to meet Peregrine's gaze very briefly, before respectfully averting her gaze again. She hoped that her current appearance would not throw him off; Pantaleimon should've come here straight away when the Sirens had left, but instead she had dawdled around for several weeks, hoping for the Sirens to return, and she had allowed herself to grow afraid of hunting, afraid to get hurt in a hunt, and therefore hungrier by the day.