Luna cackled. “Me and you, Smack… Me and you, we’re gonna get along just fine.” Her smile would have been reassuring if it not matched with a wicked glint. “I could swing either way,” she said. “Men, women—doesn’t matter if you’ve got that spark, you know? I, the moth, am drawn to any flame.” She accompanied her speech with exaggerated hand gestures, thumbs looping together to mimic a butterfly. “That’s why some people, while beautiful, are absolutely, nightmarishly boring.” She looked over her shoulder, sly. “You, Smack, have the spark.”
“I’m not the small-talk type-’o-gal,” she said, hopping down from the incline. “But if you want to talk, that’s fine by me. Just don’t expect me to be listening, unless it’s im-por-tant.” With great hypocrisy, she continued, brow furrowed: “Imagine, you’re doing something important, and your party member—a level 95 ranger—tells you that you have to see this, right now. And it’s… it’s a…” She inhaled. “A meme.” She whipped her head to Smack, stricken. “It’s impossibly ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Closer, now, to the naked woman, she lifted an arm, waving madly. “Hello?” She called. She tried again, standing tip-toed. “Hello? Hello!” Nothing. She turned, nudging Smack with her elbow. “You try. Maybe, maybe she’s not into fine women!”