“I don’t know what you have against that title,” Izzy snapped at Cerasus, incapable of holding her own tongue when his newest chiding rubbed her the wrong way, “but I asked him a question, and an answer [i]kind of[/i] involves speaking. So get off your high horse and go mope somewhere else if it bothers you that much.”
	Izzy turned to Riley when she heard him answering her, doing her best to ignore any reaction Cerasus had. Her face lit up when he offered to step in. Whether he was a reliable source or not, she could use whatever help she could get.
	“[i]Really?[/i] That would be great. For the record,” she added with a light snort, “it wouldn’t be being a busybody. [i]I’m[/i] the one asking you, not Mr. Underwear-In-A-Knot.” She hesitated. In many settings she had seen on television or read about involving the supernatural, help came at a price, and people in general almost always wanted something in return. Mix the two, and you had a perfect storm. Just to be safe, she asked, “But, is there something you would want in return for your assistance?”