She frowned a little: a less complicated question, but not precisely easier. After all, she'd never been much prone to introspection. (If she had been, she would have to think about the things she had done, that made her a monster — really a monster; not just a monster of God, like the Lance taught. She edged away from that line of thought as instinctively as she would the flame of a candle.) Any other time she might have answered easily that she was the beautiful and beloved young Harpy of Chicago, but right now that answer felt hopelessly shallow and false.
"I've...not thought that much about it, I suppose." She hesitated again. "A young woman — for a very long time, in fact, if nothing goes wrong. That's something that I never truly thought about before, until recently. The daughter of a ballerina and a bureaucrat," she paused to grimace slightly, "before we all emigrated and became just another poor family in New York. A dancer. Kindred." She shrugged. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing."
no subject
She frowned a little: a less complicated question, but not precisely easier. After all, she'd never been much prone to introspection. (If she had been, she would have to think about the things she had done, that made her a monster — really a monster; not just a monster of God, like the Lance taught. She edged away from that line of thought as instinctively as she would the flame of a candle.) Any other time she might have answered easily that she was the beautiful and beloved young Harpy of Chicago, but right now that answer felt hopelessly shallow and false.
"I've...not thought that much about it, I suppose." She hesitated again. "A young woman — for a very long time, in fact, if nothing goes wrong. That's something that I never truly thought about before, until recently. The daughter of a ballerina and a bureaucrat," she paused to grimace slightly, "before we all emigrated and became just another poor family in New York. A dancer. Kindred." She shrugged. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing."