Firefly Glen The Masquerade

His demeanor changes without warning, the shift dazzling and baffling in equal measures until he speaks. Her head tilts again, now at the movements suddenly accompanying his words — but after a second, another slow nod follows. Then she steps forward, head ducking as she reaches out to lick his chin in hopes of soothing the needless guilt, if the touch is welcome. She understands his words well enough; it is only the answering that she cannot abide, and never could. It simply isn't in her nature, as it was not in her sire's nature (not her true sire, though she will never know this). Drifting back out of his orbit, she casts a brief glance past him, mind elsewhere for a moment before her attention snaps back to Bronco. He'd mentioned a leader, Osiris, was to be expected; yet she had seen no others.