I've never been dead, her voice lilted, and she kept going, though her brows creased faintly as she wove through people. Just frozen.

When he mentioned his name, and she could feel and understand the pressure for her to give hers, Sinthia stopped and turned back, and let herself down to actually stand on the ground, smooth paved with large bricks, settling as if preparing to run. "I don't have a name," she whispered, though she didn't keep her voice soft out of any intent for deceit. It was just that she didn't talk much as it was, and loudly almost never.