Firefly Glen phantom stranger

she kept her face neutral, not at all concerned nor bothered by the other's tone. she begged to differ. how wonderful would it be to wander across the land as a living head... no tired restrictions. no worry over food or water. the lack of organs played a part in such a thing. and the look on the locals' faces when one should approach your floating head. it was almost enough to part a grin. almost. though she would miss the use of her limbs. ah well.

"Neasa" Huntington rolled the name upon her tongue, giving a small nod. added away in her memory banks for further use. "are you a local, perhaps?" it was quite clear that she was foreign to this land. but whether the woman in front of her was, well, that remained to be seen. she did not care if the other lied to her face, or spat in it. she would get her answers one way or the other. willing participant or merely looking for the next conversation.