[Her grandfather stiffens a little, drawing just a touch more upright as silence hangs in the air a minute. Eventually, though, he speaks again with that same patient calm.]
We would prefer not to be caught up in the intrigues of your society. We can offer you medicine, for what small good it will do, but you must leave us.
[But from her log, Sypha is watching this unfold quietly, cautiously. There's something about the vampire that looks...defeated, almost. She's good at reading people from a distance — perhaps the best in the caravan, really. And there are tells to the vampire that she suspects her grandfather isn't seeing — the flicker in his eyes when he was initially rebuffed. The way he's thinking behind the mask of his expression, considering possibilities — like he's already resigned to the thought that coming here will prove fruitless for him.]
no subject
We would prefer not to be caught up in the intrigues of your society. We can offer you medicine, for what small good it will do, but you must leave us.
[But from her log, Sypha is watching this unfold quietly, cautiously. There's something about the vampire that looks...defeated, almost. She's good at reading people from a distance — perhaps the best in the caravan, really. And there are tells to the vampire that she suspects her grandfather isn't seeing — the flicker in his eyes when he was initially rebuffed. The way he's thinking behind the mask of his expression, considering possibilities — like he's already resigned to the thought that coming here will prove fruitless for him.]