<strong>Name:</strong>Peregrine<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Public Sensoria, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Mid-Morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Factol Darkflame, Alzeggra<br/><br/>Another tail flick at the decidedly measured response. Perrin glanced forward, tilting her head back and forth for a moment as she weighed how likely it was that an exchange might arouse the Factol's displeasure. Certainly it would be heard, but would she really care?<br/><br/>In the end there wasn't really a question of which would win out. Perrin had never in her life so far really stopped to reign her tongue in, and she wasn't about to start now. Of course, she was also still a Namer after an odd two decades, but that was as much laziness as anything else, she was sure. And anyone that blasé was just<em>asking</em>for escalation, right?<br/><br/>"Persistence is clearly the answer," she responded in a quiet, but entirely too cheerful tone of voice. "I mean, you had the same question twice to begin with and by god if that ghost was looking like it was beginning to wear down. Two more tries and I'm<em>certain</em>it'll give you the answer you want."<br/><br/>Perrin let her coils slide sideways during her next undulation, the smooth and surprisingly warm scales running up against Alzeggra's calf in what was Perrin's version of an elbow to the ribs. She flashed one of her friendliest fang-smiles. "You'll just have to be careful. With such genius maneuvering it looked like it was about to start crying in the corner you had boxed it into."