Mel knew she was little, but this guy? He must be part... tree. One of those big tall ones she'd read about like they used to have in those states with the long names.
She stood there, looking up at the guy with wide blue eyes. He was human. As far as she knew. He didn't feel... well. Okay. He didn't feel like a lurk. He didn't feel like a demon. He seemed okay.
This would be one of those times where having all those powers she was supposed to have, the ones Harth got, would've been a big help.
Not breaking eye contact, Mel dug a hand into her bright red courderoy pants and fished out a lighter. As she did this, the pants moved and her stomach was exposed under her jacket--more exposed than it had been a second ago. She was oblivious. A tiny, slender hand with purple fingernails, wrapped in a black fingerless glove, held out the lighter and flicked a flame into life.
She didn't blink. She didn't even smile much, but her eyes said, quite clearly, that she was not intimidated easily.