Kreeth felt sorry for Nel. Her discomfort was tangible, even as she tried to squash it under a veneer of pleasantness. She expected she'd get used to the feeling when their chakra signatures became routine, but until then... she was in a most unenviable position.

She turned her attention to the girl. She wasn't shy then, crawling up onto furniture in a strange place without invite. The word 'precocious' came to mind and lodged there like a fishbone in the throat.

"Kreeth," she said, the word grinding like a handful of slate as all words in Krakish did. "Who are you?"