At some point night and morning are pretty much the same thing. Six of one, half dozen of another. For this particular girl, in more ways than one.

She sparks a smile as he approaches -- purely innocent. She's small and thin and dirt-layered, though her pale eyes veritably gleam in the dim light of the remaining lanterns. There's also something . . . off about them. They don't quite focus, remaining straight ahead even as she obviously responds to his voice and presence.

"In case you couldn't tell, looking's not exactly in my vocabulary." To emphasize the point, she waves a hand in front of her face. The reply is cheerful, though, idle and offhand. Her fingers toy with something -- pebbles? -- in her palm. "Making a bet, for those who want it."