She’s still struggling, the skin contact of holding Daia’s hand causing a stronger connection to his mind, but she doesn’t want to let go. He’s scared and being hunted by someone for the way he is, so he needs this comfort.

She closes her eyes, focuses for a moment on her own breathing, on trying to put a wall between their minds. As she hears his thought about her kindness and feels him trying to push it away, she smiles.

“It’s easier to block out now that you’re not so scared,” she says.

But his question makes her sigh, her smile falling into the same sadness as before, eyes opening.

“You haven’t heard? There’s loads of us with powers, abilities… People call us mutants, spat like some curse word.”

But perhaps he didn’t spend much time around the humans, being a vampire.