[There are ways Vögelein can relate, and ways she can't. She's never been able to show herself to just anyone. Ever since she was made, she's been told that discovery by any but the most trustworthy sorts of people will mean being smashed to pieces or imprisoned, and there have been several close calls since then that solidified the notion. Several of those she trusts have been people who would be, or had been, hunted and killed themselves for not being what others want of them. Alexi... She blinks back fresh tears, feels them burn. Perhaps this girl is Roma as he was, but it could be any of a thousand things.]

That is terrible. I wish that I could tell you it would all come out well if you didn't hide yourself, but I know how cruel people are. I'm so sorry.

[She hesitates and then gingerly tries to lay one small, soft hand over the girl's, pulling it back if the girl doesn't seem to like it. For all that Vögelein is tiny and can look like a child at a glance, she is literally an old soul.]

I hope that there are those in your life who can see you and not, not be so hateful. One place, one community is not the world. Even I have had people who I loved, and who loved me.

[Dead now, of course. She will never forget them, her growing litany of names. Strange to express grief as other people do - she's covered her face before, but the only possible reason was to hide it. It's very strange to have this conversation with someone she doesn't know, but how could she not?]

My name is Vögelein. ['Pheu-ge-line'. ...You can totally type it as Vogelein.] It's German for 'little bird'.