Some of us are more apt to do so than others. [It's wasn't a jibe, really. She appeared human. His destiny was never acceptance. He follows her with ease, his own agility allowing him to bob and weave through the crowd at least as effortlessly as she did.

Once they'd reached the side street, and the relative shade it provided, he reached up and pulled back his hood.]

In a manner of speaking, I suppose. My name, Quinlan, is a modernization of my true name, is not of this millennia, or the previous. Quintus Sertorius, at your service, Freya of Nordic Naming.