A pinze, probably, given hydaelyn's weights and heights. Lilja nods her answer and listens, quiet for a moment. A construct, he says. Something of pure magic. It rings kind of funny when your body is a myriad of doll pieces, so much so that she actually has to stifle her laugh.

"I see... it reminds me of Amorette a little. The... underestimation bit, that is." Her girlfriend is most assuredly not a construct. "I'm relieved to hear it. Honestly." Because something to stop her is ideal, considering the more they've talked, the more those little whispers have grown, culminating in the wonder of how he would taste, how he would look if she just moved, quick and heartless. If she just leaned in and—

Stop. Teeth grit faintly as she starts to move, a little halting and odd. "I'll have to remove the mask, but I think that's... supposed to be okay indoors? It won't hurt, either. If you're really sure, I mean. I'm hardly in a position to decline when I can barely control myself for wanting, am I?"

And there, in the softest little wobble of her voice, is the worst of it. The fear and the frustration of living as something you have no choice but to adjust to, something with a potentially violent will of its own that might be indomitable. She has no reason not to trust Rhea'li, so she will, because she's even less sure how much longer she can trust herself otherwise.