"You make it sound like its our fault that we smell like demons!" Cassandra said, managing not to yell. She was sick and tired of this, this spectulation, this way people seemed to have of figuring out what they were, or treating them differently because of it. She was just, in general, tired of it all. "Like we chose to be what we are! Do you know what my dream is? To take this sword, and stab the...thing that provided one half of my biological data and kill him. I will do it one day, for my mothers death, and for the death of the  man I considered to be my father" 

She stalked away, angry and just generally upset. She hadn't asked for any of this, hadn't wanted any of it. ANd she was sick and tired of being judged for it