Valen's words seem to break the three women out of their discussion, and the elf feels all three pairs of eyes settling on his chest from above. Maybe it's just the perspective, but the three women seem to be a lot taller now that their collective gaze is pinning the elf to their porch.<br/><br/>"Ah... so you're the nosy one..." The blonde's kerchief falls away, revealing lips that have just the slightest curl of frustration and sadness at Valen's indiscretion. "I assure you, none of us is a zombie... hell, Miraim is only a hundred and thirty, and she's the eldest of all of us! None of us are anywhere close to dead..."<br/><br/>The black haired maiden chuckles a bit there, and interjects. "You can take our temperatures if you'd like to double check..."<br/><br/>Her silver-haired sibling thwacks her shoulder playfully at that, but she doesn't seem to be arguing against it. All three of them seem to be studying the wizard with a mixture of curiosity and sadness; but none of them moves to chase him away, and none of them moves to help him up either. They're all just... watching.<br/><br/>At least, until the blonde finally speaks up again.<br/><br/>"Ah... would you like some tea, Mr. Nosey?"