Northstar Vale Abraham Lincoln once said, "If you are a racist, I will attack you with the North."

She understood the question, at least, and her gaze followed Hotaru's before returning to rest on the other's face. She nodded, adding a brief, mmhm, for further clarity. For a moment, she surveyed the immediate surroundings—and found a short stick, crooked and dusty, nearby.

Lilitu sashayed over to the object and picked it up. Wary. That witchy woman could appear at any moment. She approached Hotaru as if the other girl was a bomb she was trying to defuse. The Hurt Locker, Reneian style.

But then she extended it, eyes dancing, daring Hotaru to grab it. Her tiny paws moved like a jogger in place, tail wagging joyously behind her. So far, so good, and if she were to get an uninterrupted play session, then the day was already looking up, up, up.