Daisy snorts and covers her mouth with her fist, trying (and largely failing) to hide that a stupid pun is enough to make her laugh. Don't let them know your weaknesses, yadda yadda yadda... as if that ship hasn't sailed. Max and Erin already know, at the very least.

She has to clear her throat before she can drop the hand and speak again. "...I'm something called a Hunter. All of this—" she gestures, loosely, at her face and wiggles her claw-tipped fingers, "—came from a god of Fear. It made me into a monster, because... that's what I was. Am. Got a better handle on it, now. But I still hear the blood. And I still feed on fear."

It's bare bones, really. The kind of information she's gotten used to sharing, having to explain what she is in different contexts, over the last couple years. The personal details are still under lock and key, a key currently held by only a handful of individuals at most.

"You're... something. Don't know what. Not gonna ask. Can't say the feeling you put off doesn't make the blood louder. But you're... alright." For someone who smells like her childhood trauma amplified a thousandfold. "So. Sure."