"No, that's true. You big protectors are horrible at hiding yourselves," Nuriko considers, letting her eyes briefly glance over the pretty picture that he makes, hands on his hips in a manner almost assertive. "Sometimes it takes the gentler sort to really skirt along with any finesse."

Crossing her legs easily, Nuriko smiles, watching the amber liquid slosh around in Sam's glass.

Getting people to drink always feels like a victory of a sort. It implies trust, in its way.

"Miaka used to say that my world is a lot like... ancient China? But I've never heard of that. I'm from the country of Konan," she replies, knuckles brushing against her chin. "Demons were just common. You had your hunters, of course, but people fell to demons faster than the hunters could kill them. Especially considering some of the hunters got killed, themselves. I don't have a great history with them. I'm not a fan."