That wasn't quite the reaction she had been anticipating. She expected anger, or fear, because she was a monster and she could have killed him. She had been so close to doing it, too- so much so that she still shies away from him as she comes out from under the shade.
"Um, well, I work in the cookhouse," She says meekly. "You're not afraid of me?"
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"Um, well, I work in the cookhouse," She says meekly. "You're not afraid of me?"