[ Ah. Maybe it was a mistake, asking. But at the same time, this information is vital; in fact, it's rather important, considering her background. How she's yearned for the feeling because she didn't want to be alone anymore. Friends. Family.

Then there's--

She shakes her head at the thought as she tugs at an arm, fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeve. ]

I can't have someone tied to my mind like that.

[ There's disgust in her voice, but there's also something underlying in it that shows up as frost under the chair she's sitting. Fear, rejection.

The near quiet sounds of a soft, cold wind blowing. ]

... Sorry. [ She apologizes, but only because of the harshness that sat in her tone. ] I just don't like people in my head. I don't like to admit it, but it scares me.