“Huh.” A lot of doubt was expressed in that one little sound. Mao stared down at the woman as she approached. Though it was nighttime and this part of the cemetery was far from any street lights, he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the pocket of his army jacket and slipped them on. It might be too late to play it careful, but Mao figured he might as well make some sort of attempt. His eyes could get up to funny business without him knowing, the only indication something was happening was the strange looks people gave him when it was going on. He didn’t care who saw his fangs, but fiery glowing or slitted pupils were harder to explain than sharp teeth.
Mao did not know how to shield himself, he was too young, too new at being what he was. The aura he gave off was of something not human, yet possessing a human heart. His core was human even if the rest of him had become something other. And there was darkness there, a murkiness that had the potential for great evil and destruction should it be fostered. It was just too early to know where it would go. Again, Mao was very young for what he was, and younger than he looked on the human scale, for unbeknownst to him his aging had already begun to slow. There was a lot of time ahead of him to turn this way or that.
“I don’t think you’re here for dancing,” the boy said at length. He crossed his arms over his chest and remained where he stood on the wall, preferring to keep the highground for now. Or at least until he figured out what the woman wanted. “So, who are you?”