''You see, I was born with a condition, a blood curse.'' Seyraphal's tone isn't so hesitant anymore as she sits down, you keep a careful close distance to avoid mistreating that marvelous bundle of wings. I feel like I'm attending a princess. ''It was something that warped my senses and body, causing abominable shapeshifting, transforming me into a predator... It's only after I found my druidic master that I managed to identify the problem and find a cure, I...survived until then.'' The way her antennas droop convinces you not to ask questions

''That condition and my race convinced Montaron to be serious about sharing his art with me. These natural skills allow me to ''feel'' and ''know'' nature's condition by attuning myself to surrounding insect life.'' Montaron? That name sounds familiar. Doesn't sound like a good man if he had to be ''convinced'' to educate. The dark red spots on the side of her head inside her hair give you the impression of an eye as Seyraphal keeps idling with the needles.

Leaning forward, her pair of lower arms bent at an angle that almost makes you shiver as she effortlessly reaches a spot on the back of her naked shoulders. Two long index fingers scratch at what seem to be protective scales, half a joint sinks in there somehow, and gently extracts two long white filaments of what you can only assume to be silk. She has no trouble pinching these between her fingers despite the lack of sight and, without her wings intruding on her finesse, Seyraphal easily brings this material forward, the silk somehow remaining steady and whole despite the distance between her back and the needles on the tables.

''I've always lived in the Allied Kingdoms and I've come to understand that humans and Mamonos share equal disdain toward bug species like me.'' She continued, slowly but surely, preparing an increasing quantity of silk. ''Our...biology can make it difficult to keep us healthy, and I suppose a body like mine creeps out enough people they believe us to be demons. Add a loss of control due to Corruption...''

''That won't be happening here.'' You resist the urge to pet her wings, her delicate work has started. Four hands and twelve fingers mix well with knitting.

''I'm not a danger, not anymore.'' Her eyes don't leave her work as she speaks. ''The way I employ my druidic art, how my body changes to accommodate this power could be... scary to look at.''

Ah. I get it, that's what she's been dancing around. ''You're not a danger anymore, right?'' Her blanket-like wings are so soft on your arm, that you just need to give them a little pet again. ''I won't reject how your talent looks, Seyraphal. I'll likely be surprised and curious when it happens, you won't find me waving a torch around.'' When she timidly cranes her neck upward to look at you with those dark red eyes, you wink and nod, and her pale cheeks grow a new blossom of redness. ''Does Shigeko know?''

''Yeah. She... accepted my body.''