All things start with one, is that not true? And if I am that one, so be it. Perhaps not all my folk will open their eyes; some old hatreds die too hard. And yet, all I can do is try.

[It might be more of a shrug if she had wings. It ends up more like a strange hunching, as it were.]

Perhaps that will be the way I am chosen to defend my people. Is this my test? I do not know, all I know is that I must stand strong.

In any case, we can be friends now, can we not?