<em>Alecto remains asleep, and Rhiannon doesn't seem to notice Celie's eyes on her, or, if she does, she doesn't mind, but, then, she can't see the effect she's having on the half-celestial gnoll.<br/><br/>Alise, for her part, is alternately watching her tiefling friend and looking at Celie's face and wings as she talks.<br/><br/>"She is, in a way. I think it comes from how she's come to think about herself... We've tried to show her that she isn't alone, that we care for her, but, at least for now, much as she may want to believe us, a part of her will always be telling her that, because of what she is, she will never be loved, at best pitied. She's come to hate pity. So don't let her know, please. Befriend her, keep your distance, respect her, fear her, even... but don't pity her.<br/><br/>"As for where we met... it's a long, strange story. If we have time tonight, I'll tell you, but I'd rather the others be with us. It's not something owned, or that should be told by any of us alone, but each of us has her part, and so it'd be hard for any one of us to really be able to tell it right. What about you, though? What's your stor-- oh."<br/><br/>Her words are cut short as Celie's manhood drifts into Alise's peripheral vision, and the aasimar instantly blushes and covers her mouth, averting her eyes in a moment of confusion, then, befuddled, peering up at Celie's face and chest, and then down again, then up again, clearly at a loss for words, though her deep crimson coloration speaks of her embarrassment. Still, at the least, she doesn't move away.</em>