Is there anyone who can truly claim to fear nothing? Of course it's easy to make the claim, but when put to the proof she's really just as normal as anyone.

"I'm not— avoiding it. Not really. Amorette would never let me live it down."

It's not as simple as sustenance, in the end, or so she thinks. "I don't like being... out of control. This isn't like having a little too much to eat - outside of majorly fucked up circumstances, there's no reason to drink too much."

But as he speaks of offerings, of expectations, it draws her attention all over again. "What... would you suggest in return? There's not much I can offer, you realise." At least she'll bite. The very idea prickles at the enthusiastic hunger teeming below the surface, both for blood and for companionship and comfort. The latter had been quelled with prior incidents and engagements, once she'd snapped the strings, but she's unsurprised they remain, and remain strong still.