Felicity was irritated, on the verge of actually being angry, as the pale-haired man took several minutes to examine her skeletal body. She glared up at him from between the twisted locks of hair that fell across her eyes, gleaning nothing but vague amusement from what she could see of his face. Much as she would have liked, it would do her no good to slap that invisible smirk off his face (she was sure it was there, whether he was showing it or not) so she did nothing more than glare unhappily up at him. She was not a submissive person, but this was a situation in which someone else was very dominant, and she grudgingly accepted that; for now.

As he played with the fabric of the shirt she had requested, she made an attempted to flatten her ears and sadly found that that was no longer possible. With this discovery fresh in mind, she did the exact same thing a second later when the man spoke. It was not as bad as the first time, and it was a little better with her human ears, but it was still unpleasant to hear such twisting, warbling sounds.

"Because if you don't, I'll stand up," she drawled. She managed not to cringe so much at her own voice this time. "And, I dunno, because I'm fucking naked and it's fucking cold." In truth, she was not cold at all, but it was a very logical reason to give someone a shirt when they're naked outside at the crack of a chilly autumn dawn.

As he crouched before her, she lifted her lip and snarled again, a weaker sound coming from a human throat which was not made to produce such a noise but which yielded an adequate, if somewhat nasally and warbled, substitute. Either way, it was clearly a snarl, and one required no further words to say "back the fuck off." Of course, she did not expect him to actually back off, and of course he did not, instead asking quite a ridiculous question of her in response to which she set her jaw and said nothing.

He continued to play with the shirt. Felicity wasn't so bothered by the fact that he was keeping it from her as she was at this game he seemed to be playing. With every rustle of fabric she caught the scent of him that soaked the threads. She couldn't smell it so easily on the man himself. She found the scent oddly comforting; despite the chill in the white-haired boy's words and skin, his smell on that shirt was warm, and it kept her from biting him when he reached to touch her. She only bared her teeth once more; clean teeth, animal-white teeth, probably the only part of her aside from her guts that was free of dirt and bruises. She caught his eyes and held them, refusing to look away even though she found his gaze rather disturbing. She could deal with disturbing, though; she'd met worse people than this man.

When he mentioned a one-night stand, Felicity cocked her head in confusion, but when he mentioned breaking her, she let out a bark of laughter that sounded too big to have come from her scrawny chest. "You're funny," she spat, a cynical half-smile tugging her lips upward in one direction to display a single sharp canine. Part of him was joking and part of him was not; as Felicity herself made half-joking, half-serious threats all the time, this was both relatable and ridiculous, and so she laughed at it. As the shirt suddenly flew at her, she snatched it out of the air and stood up, twirling it around her shoulders and pushing her arms through the sleeves. It would have been too large for her even if she were well-fed and normally sized.

She rolled up the sleeves and crossed her arms over the unbuttoned front. She created a very odd picture; in a frosty autumn morning with nothing but a shirt to protect her from the elements, Felicity stood with her shoulders back and her weight lazily shifted to her left leg. She noticed with pleasure that she was only an inch or two shorter than the pale-haired boy. At his question, she raised her dark eyebrows.

"It's not a sad story and it's not for you," she quipped. "You can call me Crow, and you only need to know that I haven't been human for what could very well be several years now; I don't remember. I look like shit because I've been... moving, and my meals have been patchy to say the least. The rest is up for debate if I think you're worth it."

She began to size him up for real now. They had about the same body type, had it not been for Felicity's health at that moment; slender, lean, narrow-waisted and long-legged. He was probably dangerous. In good health, Felicity was dangerous as well, but this past month and probably the month to come were an exception. She took no note as to whether or not he was attractive, though she did decide he was rather pretty. She also did not care to look for any signs that he found her appealing, though had she thought about it, she would have decided he certainly did not.

"I'm going to assume your story would not be a fair trade for my excuse, but I'll give it a shot anyway." She looked at him expectantly, intrigued despite her irritation with the curious way he interacted with her. She jerked her head north, knowing somehow where the forest ended and the answers began was in that direction. "We could also walk. I'd like to get your shirt back to you sometime, but I don't want to present myself to civilization in the nude, so I'll be keeping it for now." She turned her body but did not begin walking; conversations were no good if you were traveling single-file.

Felicity Crow

I'm rusted from the rain