Malina hadn't always been known as Malina, or even Paulo Vafer. No, at one point she'd simply been called bastard. Azrael had made sure of that. They had even thought about it - of course, he had practically cried over a scratched belly and yet, the word had been bitterly ingrained into Malina like a scar. All the other names she had taken and Bastard still seemed to cling to her fur like dirt. The salt of it all had been her discovery that she had never even been as such; her father had always been present in some way, and yet, she had always remained dirty in the eyes of others. Perhaps it was why she felt some kind of connection to the girl. Both had suffered in one way or another and yet, both had taken a different path to cope. She, this girl, was a nervous thing. Malina had always been an aggressive thing. Even her age couldn't cool her blood down entirely.

Fight seemed to bring about a response. Instantly, Malina eased up again. She gave space where space was due and allowed the child a moment to decide whether she ought to stay or leave; she stayed, almost surprising Malina and yet, it made the woman think. So, she had yet to fight? Or at least, she seemed reluctant to pick fights? It'd likely make her a better candidate, really. Heyel and Malina had butted heads for years over her reluctance to be quiet or reactive as opposed to active. They'd never been able to agree on that at least. She had to smirk at the thought - she wondered how he'd feel to know that she had been considering an apprentice for some time. She had yet to pass on any of her knowledge and she believed it was due time: she had knowledge of more than just her craft, after all. Somebody else would find use in them, surely.

But why had she taken an interest in some tiny girl that hid and quivered inside shadows? Well, it was a good question. The girl was already comfortable in the darkness, away from the world. She was comfortable hiding. She was good at being unassuming. These were skills that often had to be taught to others and yet, there she was. Malina supposed it could be put down to the simple fact that the girl was different in some way.

Something had piqued the girl's interest enough to stay though. Malina's tail gave a singular floppy wave of approval, a grin breaking her lips once more as the girl questioned her. "It's like stealing," she hmm'd for a moment, "but you take their words instead." She supposed it was a good start. She shrugged, stretching out a little more and tilting her head suddenly so that her white ear flopped and bounced in response. "See, you get somewhere comfortable and then you put all your effort into really listening. You get to find out all kinds of secrets - and some boring things too." She grinned again, shameless in her grey morality as any self-loving assassin ought to be.

And then, the girl's name. It tempted a brow to raise. Strange name, she considered and yet, she had heard stranger. She simply had to wonder what kind of parent ought to give a child such a name. An outcast. "It's a pretty name," her voice was gentle, genuine, a mastered skill that remained sweet when her thoughts considered the bitterness of the truth. "Mine's Malina," she followed up with a shallow bow of greeting, the very same she might use to greet some great leader or kingsguard. "You can call me Vafer though. Sometimes, we get to pick our own names just for fun!" And so lay an unspoken offer to the girl. She could remain Pariah or she could become something else. Malina didn't mind whichever she chose for a choice had already begun to be made for her either way.