Turning her head, Meg caught glance with herself and turned to face her fully. In kind, she looked the other over. Damn, girl. Whatever happened in the other universe--or what have you--had not happened here. Or maybe it had but not for as long. It was hard to say. A part of her was curious, wanted to ask, what to care. A part of her didn't give a damn. There was something wrong about messing with yourself from any time, that much the Winchester boys could no doubt vouch for--just not these Winchester's, they didn't come from that late in the game.
Meg only gave the other the usual snarky kind of smirk, shaking her head. "Nope," she said. "I'm not even gonna try. I told you my story and I'm stickin' to it." She smiled and took a few steps closer to meet the other. They even stood the same. Meg put her hands in her coat pockets idly, shifting on her feet with her hip cocked to the right.
Ah, so she caught the hair. Tilting her head, a hand raised up to paw at the wavy strands. "Gee...I'm not sure I really want to tell you, with the way you haven't been believing me and all. Seems like a stretch of a story at this point. Simply stated, I tried a new look that I didn't like." That was somewhat close to the real story, but not quite. Really, Meg would have been glad to commiserate with herself over several heavy bottles of scotch or whiskey, some form of alcohol, but with the way they were going that seemed unlikely of a scenario. Too bad.