Book-worm seemed to stand there for a moment. Simply, standing there. It may have been clear that their hands were twitching about under their cloak. Their posture seemed slouched once more and leaning toward the exit over so slightly.

They looked upon Margaret or rather the being that went by that name when in a different form. Their appearance seemed, most impressive in Book-worms own thoughts. Added with the ability to so easily change it to something more appealing toward the commoners feel, awkward for Book-Worm.

They did know however changelings rarely revealed themselves or exposed their true forms at all. 

[b]If we die. We die, identifying will not be of much concern. The earth and the stars will take us one way or another.[/b] The voice whispered. [b]W-we do not refer to you however of course. That is an entirely different matter up to you whether or not you need to be revealed. But we clearly do not need it. It is likely very easy for you to know who we are anyhow. You know of our species, and you should also know that is not common for us to be.... around in such masses to make need to separate us by looks.[/b] The voice seemed to shake the words out rather than a steady tone.

There would be a pause. [b]Fine, patron. We will do as asked... if you believe it to spread your glory.[/b] 

It would be particularly slow. None the less it would appear as if the large hood covering Book-Worm's head was moving back through some invisible force. It would reveal a rather large head similar to that of an ant. Its mandibles were closed, and its antennas were practically small stumps. 

Book-worm's eyes were covered with two sets of heavy cloth wrapping around the large beady eyes as blind-folds. Their posture slumped inward even further in the discomfort..