Sookie's eyes briefly slide to a close at the title he uses. A god of death. Poetic when described with so many words, though Sookie suspects that this encounter of hers is not quite like all the others. Unlike vampires, she doesn't sense anything hungry or malicious lurking under the man's skin. Just a quaint curiosity and a comfort while lurking in shadows.

"Appropriate," she agrees, smiling faintly up at the building and marveling at how it feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than a perfectly maintained estate ever would.

"So... a god of death sounds an awful lot like a reaper," she murmurs, tilting her head. Only now does she feel that slight itch across her skin, like she'd barely grazed something hot and flickering like fire. "You sure you were supposed to save me back there?

"Or does being lapsed mean that you get to pick and choose?"