"Ugh," Daine says with feeling, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. "They were nasty, weren't they? Didn't feel quite like animals, though. More like immortals, 'specially the part-animal ones, like spidrens or stormwings. Itchy." She gestures vaguely to her own head for emphasis. She hadn't been able to speak with them, but she could feel the general mood of the things easily enough, and it hadn't been very pleasant. Much like spidrens and stormwings, they'd seemed to enjoy the prospect of causing a little misery. "You needn't feel bad for killing them, anyhow. They were out to make trouble."

"You didn't get bit, did you?" she asks, eyebrows rising. "If you get bit, you turn into one." That isn't true at all, and her solemn expression lasts about two seconds before it collapses into a snort, and she takes another sip of her drink. "Well, no. I s'pose if you got bit, you'd just have to live with the embarrassment of being caught by one of 'em."