[ It's such a strange point of view. She'd only ever seen her lack of human urges as something to be regarded with despair — a mark of how far she'd fallen in her centuries long quest. And yet, he seems to wear it like a badge of honor. Only the most subtle of Giselle's expressions ever seem genuine, and in this moment, her brief confusion at those words, the quickest twitch in her brow, does come off very real. Her features settle once more soon enough, the shift as minute as an unintentional flinch. ]

Why, yes. I have changed in many ways, over the years. Learned a wide breadth of things to serve a number of masters. My hair, too, has changed...

[ She offers that first, the first parts seriously, and the last in jest, a hand raising to brush a few strands of hair from her face. The part of her so deeply locked away naively wants to reach out, to say I'm like that, too, but she barely restrains it, deciding that her longing for someone who may understand this persistent distance from other beings should be trumped by her reflex to keep an arm's length. ]

Though I am unsure if I see such a change as yours as purely advantageous. [ Her tone is kept light, curious, trying not to seem as though she's judging his opinion. Perhaps that will be more evident in the even, pointedly unconcerned way that she asks: ] You were human before, were you not?