Death was fairly certain that before she spent most of her days with George, she hadn't done things like this. Since George, she spoke more like a mortal, she acted more like a mortal. The worst part of it was that she was minding less and less who much of an effect her mortals had on her.
"I am... it." Death said. There was something in her eyes. Behind the sweet perkiness was something mysterious and old. "And I don't mind. You can be rude." A pause. "I'm not really a person in the strictest sense of the word. I look like a person sometimes, that's all."