Rosario pushes herself up straighter and turns to stare. In the waning moonlight, Lyra's face is half shadows and as hard to read as Corvus above. "Why?" There's a sour taste at the back of her throat that's not from the wine and she finds herself matching Lyra's whisper. If faeries are like Bloody Mary, then this entire conversation has gotta be a giant flashing beacon; any elf ears in the vicinity must be burning hot right now, and the thought has her every hair on the back of her neck standing on end, but it doesn't frighten her half as much as Lyra's admission does. "Just to see, that's worth getting, getting erased again? You know that's crazy."