The faerie girl hardly considered herself foolish, even if she knew she was trusting to an unnatural fault. She knew, logically, that it perhaps wasn't the most reasonable thing to invite the blood covered girl into her home, and yet she'd taken in Dorian, hadn't she? The man had been bloody, run over by a bicycle, and unable to care for himself. And yet he had turned out to be her best friend. She doubted, truly, that Vhalla would go to that extent, and yet she couldn't bring herself to not trust the woman, even as she went as far to call Samantha foolish. "I'm not foolish." She said firmly, moving about in the kitchen to prepare the tea that she'd promised the woman. Still, the fae queen showed no indication that she was offended, keeping the same level tone that she'd used the whole time she'd been in the kitchen. "I never claimed to be in my right mind, nor do I truly believe that you would hurt me. And as for who I bring in off the streets..." Placing the mugs in front of Vhalla, she merely grinned. "Call it a gut instinct."

It wasn't that, of course, her like of the woman in front of her being entirely due to the empathic ability that she held. Still, it was not prudent to reveal that, at least not yet, and for now the woman merely settled herself in stirring an abundance of sugar into her own tea. Once stirred, she moved the mug up to her own lips, taking a long drink as she eyed the woman across from her. She could feel the subtle disgust coming from her at the tea, and yet the woman continued to drink it in an opportunity to be polite. No, Samantha was positive that this woman was no real threat to her. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it, Vhal," She commented lightly, putting her own mug down. "I can make you something else. I have coffee... and milk? I think Dorian probably drank the last of the apple juice, unfortunately. But I have water, of course. The good, filtered kind, not tap."

The girl quirked her lip up into a smirk at her own words, fully prepared to be the host she was playing rather than the queen she should have been. But no, that was hardly what she wanted to focus on, instead she commented on the feelings that Vhalla held, ones that were so bright and flickering around her. Samantha could feel it so easily, as though she was breathing or hearing it. It was another sense to her, something she couldn't turn off even if she wanted to. She had tried, with Raven and Nadya and Aiden, to not read their emotions to give them privacy. But it didn't work. It seemed she had no control over it, at least not really.

The reaction from the woman was hardly surprising, Vhalla hardly seeming like the type that wouldn't react to any personal information about her. Still, Samantha didn't move, her blue eyes never wavering from the girl in front of her. Samantha pulled her own emotions close, ready to use them to defend herself should the need arise, a laugh bursting from her own mouth at the woman's mild threat. "No, Vhalla, you can relax. I am not a psychic." It is the plea that she be told that Samantha couldn't read her mind that had softened the girl, wanting to soothe the young woman back to her seat at Samantha's counter.

Samantha eyed the woman â€" no, girl â€" as she stood away from her. How old was she? She looked young, early twenties at most. She was still a girl. And yet there was a sharpness about her, one that was left behind from tragedy. Samantha had it herself, as did Aiden and Raven, and Nadya to an extent. The fear and confusion and pain that Vhalla felt radiated within Samantha, it causing an almost motherly urge to protect her, just as she had felt with Ivy and with Dorian.

"Vhal, I can't read your mind," She promised, moving around the counter to close the distance between herself and the witch. She kept her at arms length, still positive that Vhal could harm her if she so desired, though Sam was sure that the girl didn't want to do that, or she would have already. "Your thoughts are safe. I'm an empath, you see. Your emotions." Sam's blue eyes rose to meet Vhal's, holding her gaze. "They're like a scent, or a sound. I can't ignore it, even if I try. I can feel your fear as though it's my own." She gave the girl a shrug, looking rather like a young girl in the moment than a faerie queen. "I can influence your emotions, too, if I choose. Found that out the hard way with my boyfriend. But I won't do that unless you try to harm me."

She held a hand out to the girl, a gesture of peace should she take it. "Please, relax? I won't harm you. And you're safe here. Whatever it is you're afraid of, it's of no threat to you within my walls."