[Off-handedly, Monts thinks there's something similar in their manner. They're going two-for-two on outward similarities in terms of otherworldly things piggybacking off of them and amicable smiles; will there be more?

She crosses her arms before answering back.]

It... Well. It moves around too, like your mark. But it grows bigger? Like a bruise that grows larger and larger, or an oil spill. If nothing exciting is going on, it'll just hang out on my neck though.

If anyone asks I just say it's a badly made tattoo.