The Sentinels no business but gold

this woman, wraen, he soon discovered she was a storyteller. and a very good one. lionel blinked, ears thrusting forward as she began to describe these mysterious folk. 
it seemed that they were focused on using men as an all-you-can-eat buffet, which chilled and titillated the boy. she had said they were attractive, after all; he tried to reason with himself that being killed by a hottie was better than being killed by someone who also wasn't easy on the eyes.
but it was her last adaptation that left lionel frowning knowingly. "wow," he muttered when she had finished. "my mom, she told me about these things called selkies. they did ... they do the same thing." was he in more danger because he was a man? and was this yarn-spinning chiclet someone to fear also? lionel snorted. "but they don't throw their skin. that's - that's weird." weird. sickening. "how do you know all this?" suspicious.