[ Real, real deep.

Possibly irreversibly deep, from the first time Ianthe's sure, elegant fingers slipped against the cool waters of her soul. ]

Of course, yes.

[ She brings her hand up, wiping away her cheek with the inside of her wrist as that smile never leaves her lips, bright and sharp. ]

You need my blood, yes? For the - ah, wards? How much? If it is a lot I will need to sing to ensure my other nature is unresponsive.