Not a mutant. And being cryptic enough that he clearly wasn't human either. A part of her was crushed by that information, the hope she'd secretly harbored now torn to shreds. She didn't have any sort of control over her mutation after all, it really was just because of whatever he was.

Instead of stoking the fire of her simmering anger, his 'breadcrumbs' were just wearing her down, that spark of energy she'd gotten from him fading into nothing as she almost visibly deflated.

"You're trying to tell me you're not alive?" she theorized, wishing it sounded crazy when in fact it didn't. "You're something that looks human but isn't alive? Well, that only leaves a dozen or so possibilities." And maybe she sounded a little bitter at that, because she was so tired of not being normal.

Letting her arms fall to her side, she shook her head, half turning away from him to look over the empty bleachers. Her expression was lost and her tone empty as she continued, "I don't want to play games, Damon. I've spent the last two weeks thinking I'm crazy because I've got a couple hundred people in my head and keep having nightmares about being tortured, so if we could just talk, I'd really appreciate it."