It's hard to shake a thought when it's put into your mind. The Ancestor's suggestion ignites, implication burning deeper. Is this - are we - should I? Even across barriers of language and species she can identify shining eyes and the expression of awe. She could make the time to make this girl's night and change her life, and she could go through anyone who tried to stop her. She could make dreams come true. It's a fiery note to touch. It tastes like oblivion; removing herself from a picture and allowing good things to just happen. The logic of contact and seduction and sensuality could play itself out to its conclusion and she'd be left with the satisfying of a task well done. Was this how Mirror felt when she...? There was a moment's hesitation when the Spirit spoke, and then she lifted up Isabelle into an over-the-shoulder carry so that her hands would be free to speak. She paused a moment to look at, and briefly pat, Isabelle's butt. This position was weirdly sensuous without a tail to cover, wasn't it? She only then paid her full attention to the Spirit. she signed, ... Was that perhaps why she didn't find it easy to slip into the human's embrace? She found everything in this moment as frictionless as the inside of a soap bubble. She herself was as small as her problems. The Bezorel had been a piece of shit and she could not honestly lament its demise, but with it she had passed again from the realm of the gods. Was she to satisfy herself, then, by satisfying others? Captured by bright eyed girls and hard eyed hunters until she faded away entirely? Or instead she might place herself again upon the divine battlefield. Where she could wear a shape that fit her, where deception broke steel instead of hearts, where she could once again speak the only language she truly understood.