The fae child with that innocent, soft smile has always loved babies. She would find any excuse to play with the ones in her foster homes, when they managed to have babies. Maeve would always, with a soft smile on those pale lips, ask if she could watch the babies while her foster parents were cooking dinner or getting ready. Although Maeve was certainly not old enough to watch a child on her own, she did enjoy those occasions where she was given just the tiny bit of responsibility. And perhaps it was just those easy facial expressions or her radiant disposition, but the children seemed to like golden haired fae child with those stunning eyes of violet. Those eyes of violet that always seemed to stand so stark against that pale face of hers. The slender child could often be seen with a child, cooing quietly, playing peek a boo, or telling them a story in those soft lyrics of hers. The fair complexioned fae girl had always loved stories.

Much of her life, in a way, had been spent alone. Every time she ran away from a foster home, she would spend so much time wandering, looking in the store windows of candy shops and boutiques with pretty dresses. Sometimes, the cream haired child would dare to enter these shops, the pale girl feeling perhaps particularly bold. And she would find herself a delicious lollipop that she simply could not resist. It would be then that the cream haired fae would use her powers of persuasion before stealthily exiting the store, lollipop clasped in her pale hand, a momentary smile stretching across her face.

And so that golden haired child had watched the woman pushing the stroller with a bright curiosity and a small grin upon her lips. Even with that slight smile on her face, Maeve does not expect the woman to stop and acknowledge her. The lithe fae child was used to people ignoring her, not bothering themselves with interacting with a child, especially not one of their own. So the pale girl simply expects perhaps a rude comment or a simple brush off motion towards her, but that is not what happens, much to Maeve's delight. The child with hair like liquid gold and skin so pale she rivaled a china doll, such a sweet-hearted delicate little thing, watches as the woman slows down her strolled just as the pale golden haired Maeve moves from the dance studio. Maeve's own pale face widens into a gentle smile in response to the woman's friendly features offered towards the child. "Hi, Amelia," she says quite shyly, but her attention is quickly directed away when she learns the name of the child as Amelia gestures to the baby that had turned its attention to Maeve, whose smile on her her fair skinned face only grew a little wider upon seeing the small child. The golden haired girl may be a child herself, but that didn't mean she couldn't love little babies. "Hello, Tenley," she says, looking at the child with those intense, violet eyes that look out from underneath those long, dark lashes, brushing a piece of golden, creamy hair behind a delicately pointed, fair skinned ear.

The pale girl doesn't know about vampires. The girl with long, pretty tresses knows about faes, and she knows about weres. But those purple eyes are unsure of who she is looking at when she moves them from the child and back onto the woman. Those same violet eyes watch the woman carefully as she asks the small child a question."I don't have parents," she says carefully, having been asked this question many times before only to wind up in another foster home. But this time is different. The pale child speaks again, offering the woman a sweet smile. "But I have Beylani and Andras, and my cats and my dogs," she says in her bright and youthful voice. The child of course referring to her fae guardians, and also the weres that have allowed the pale fae child into their pack. "Where is the dad?" Maeve asks Amelia, entirely unaware that in other situations this may be an inappropriate question. She turns her pale face around, violet eyes scanning to see if, perhaps, she spots the child's father, unaware that the baby's father is a fae, just like Maeve. The petite child stares up at Amelia with a beautiful, young curiosity. Then, as the delicate little dove looks up at Amelia, she gets a strange feeling. Perhaps, because fae people could be the prey to vampires and that is all it is, but Maeve doesn't feel frightenedâ€"justâ€"strange. "Excuse me," the pale golden haired child begins almost shyly, still with a darling smile on her face. "But," she isn't sure how to say these next words without sounding like a rude child, which would never be Maeve's intention. "But, what are you?" She asks with such innocence and childlike curiosity. Then those lavender eyes turn to the baby. "and what is she?" She finishes the two part question. "Are you like me?" And Maeve does not mean a fae, her question is much simpler than that. "Are you different?" A pause. "Like me?"