Pam listened and watched. She was very good at both. Her hands rested on the bartop, and she settled into a quiet state for only a few moments, blinking becoming a set pattern meant to calm the human populace.
"Perhaps I would, but she seems to believe she is dreaming. Do I want to be nothing more than a dream?" Her voice was flat, dead pan. Yet, she was smiling; she understood humor after a fashion that even humans got which made her peculiar. She was definitely different, and a good bit of that was due her Maker. He had not forced her into becoming something she wasn't as so many Makers did.