Mason listened intently, mentally jotting down all of the information he was given. It didn't come as much of a surprise to him that there were so many supernatural people; if there was a camp for them, thy must be fairly prevalent. Even so, his impression that the world was far larger than he had ever imagined was growing more and more sure.

It was both a relief and a burden to hear that asking Leoh type was acceptable, and, indeed, expected. It would help him plenty, as he'd be a bit less in the dark about all of this, but it would also put the expectation on him to open up. Indeed, even now, it seemed that the others were waiting for him to answer with his type. He smiled nervously, then answered.

"A witch, huh? That doesn't seem right. Aren't witches s'posed to be old crones, not lovely mademoiselles?" He smiled slightly, to show he was mostly kidding. "And a pair of dolls? That's really something. I d'know what mythos you two come from, but you're right. We're all three pretty lost, huh? I hope we get along all right, you seem like nice enough kids- er, I mean, dolls. People, that is." He blushed a bit at his fumbling. He was growing increasingly nervous as he got closer to his confession of type.

"Well. I s'pose you all deserve to know, seeing as how you told me what you all are. I just found out a little bit ago, maybe a year and a half. I'm a Gargoyle. I'm not great at controlling it yet, but sometimes, I become this stone-skinned, winged creature. It's... not very pretty-looking. I mean, I get horns, and a spiked tail, and these eerie golden eyes. Oh, and some serious teeth. Kinda demon-looking. I don't dislike it, exactly, I mean, flying is awesome, but when I'm in that form, sunlight hurts. A lot. I don't like it much usually, but it's especially bad then." He trailed off, blushing furiously and carefully not making eye contact with anyone.