Nodding to his question, she was taken by surprise by his little joke, and it earned him a weak smile - one that didn't reach her eyes. But he was trying to be kind and she appreciated it. "Hopefully, there's no actual biting involved at all," she replied softly, some amusement playing across her features. She would have been surprised to know he thought her pretty. Usually she did a good job of being invisible, and she wasn't used to getting noticed for any reason.

When he reached out to touch her, two opposing urges ran through her mind. One wanted to shrink back - this was the first time in weeks she'd even spoken to another person. Touching was far beyond her comfort zone. The other, the part of her that still hoped, or wished, he was Mircea, wanted to nuzzle against his palm and be comforted. Instead of doing either, she merely froze, eyes like a deer in the headlights, standing still as a statue as he gently brushed the hair from her face.

When her brain finally worked through its internal traffic jam, a blush rose to her cheeks and she took a step back. She was clearly flustered. And while her actions may have read, Stay back, that was not an intentional message. Most people only got that message, thinking her stand-offish or snobby. They didn't bother to see beyond it to her timid nature. "Yes, that's all," she answered softly, nervously twisting a ring on her finger.

At his final statement, she paused before looking up to meet his eyes. "You could be his twin," she whispered. Images of memories flashed through her mind - being on the receiving end of his deadly accuracy with a throwing knife (it was an accident), being thoroughly intoxicated and lonely on the beach only to have Mircea see her safely home, conversing about her Wiccan magical studies, meeting in the library. "He was a librarian, too," she murmured. Another pause, and she added, "What's your name?" She knew it was not possible. He didn't have the same scent as Mircea, or his voice. But it didn't stop her from hoping.