Brigit had never been that forthright before. Emily sniggers loudly. "Poor guy... Don't break him! Not everyone can keep up with a werewolf that's had a dry spell..." she breaks down into more giggles.
She sighs, and turns serious. "Yeahhhh.... but what if you bump into the ego twins or someone else hunting? I'm not having any Anshega catching you one your own." Wasn't happening.
The Ithaeur looks into Brigits brown eyes, and gapes at the Talon, blushing. "Really?" She tries to smile, putting her hands on Brigit's. "... Me too. You can count on me, babes, I promise. This is about you. I know I feel... strongly about them. But... I'm not alone any more. I have you, and all the others! I'm not, like... the lonely, depressive nymphomaniac stoner alcoholic I used to be...." She looks increasingly awkward.
"Um. Didn't quite mean to say all that." Emily squirms, uncomfortably, looking at the empty bottle and the heavily dented one on the table. "But, like... back then I was in a really bad way. Losing dad and everyone. I'm not the same as then. Older.. smarter... I had that work on my sleeve done..." She grins bashfully. "I can do it. I swear."