[His head only briefly tilts up and down, barely a nod, yet Kirika understands it easily, wordlessly sitting down in a position not disimilar to his own, a bit fetally.]

[This close, the boy's scent is unmistakeable. Peculiar in it's sheer pungency. She at first thinks he must've killed a lot of people in his life, but... it feels like more than that. It's hard to explain. She decides to leave it for later, when the correct words find her.]

[In the meantime, they both sit in silence at a vantage point of the lounge, watching the festivities that don't involve them at all. As she'd thought, this was the best place to observe the crowd. Any one of them would be easy work for Kirika if they were one of her targets. In fact, she makes a game of catching with her eyes all the plates of food left alone even for a moment; all the people leaving the room alone and vulnerable...]

[Somehow, this doesn't feel awkward to her.]