*has no idea what the fuck you're talking about (wife? son?) but you're getting better and better with every uppity little word you speak*
*has the fleeting thought that a tall thing like you would bleed an awful, awful lot if she sliced you open—no, no no no, she's not hungry (nothungrynotnotnotnot) and she has work to do*
*follows you outside, dogging your (tall, tall) shadow and silently laughing to herself* *barely gives the others a glance, instead slithering into the vehicle before the door shuts*
*lurks just at the edge of your vision* *sisses lowly as the engine starts* My kind, my kind. But you don't know me.