The smallest smile ghosted across her mouth when Morpheus reacted the way he did. She set her fingertips briefly against his lower back before letting her hand fall away.
Father problems. Nanshe felt some sympathy for the girl. It sounded like her father had rejected what she was born to be -- and that was never an easy thing to live with. The bright side, if one could look at it like that (and Nanshe wasn't even sure she could, much less voice it as a suggestion) was that Annabelle wasn't anywhere that her father could reach her, whoever he might be. Maybe this was good for her, in a way.
"Who is teaching you how to..." Nanshe gestured vaguely.