[ The truth of the matter is this: being an elf is something that Lauralae disdains rather than celebrates, and had she approached Astarion, and he had made merit of it, she might well have dismissed him entirely. It is the fact that he has been kind, that there is some burn of consciousness that makes her think they share something similar that has made her wish for his company in earnest. He is good, she thinks, in a way she cannot name, and that pleases her.

They understand one another, without the need to voice it. That is pleasant. ]

That does depend on the nature of the mansion, does it not? So many games to play, and no means to escape.

[ Not that she minds too much. The encounters she has had - with men and women - have been good, and the exploration has been fun, if not overwhelming at times.

Lifting her head, she watches Astarion for a moment before something twitches on her lip, and she leans a little closer, curious, almost childishly so. ]

A... Vampiric chicken? Is that what they gifted you?