"I didn't either until Ronan told me," Minerva admitted, then looked up at Atlas. "I met with him a few days ago," she explained. "It was the first thing that he noticed."
She stared off into the fire, listening to Atlas' breathing and heartbeat which were normal, unlike hers. "Don't you?" she asked back, shrugging.
"When I woke up in the hospital, they tried to get me to drink pig's blood because I was almost dead. I refused until my father came, and then I gave in. I thought it would be gross, but I like it. So, yeah that part is weird," she told him.
"I've found others like me at a muggle club where I'm working now. The owner, Jeanette - she's three hundred years old."
Minerva lifted her head to look at him. "I'll live longer than you, Atlas. I can live to be as old as that, if I'm careful."