“What's an original?”
Cara sighed and went to the cereal box, tilting it back a little to get a closer look at the ridiculous character adorning the front.
"Not one of these," she chuckled. Such an innocent witness to such a dangerous question.
Without looking away from the box, she then said, "The only reason you know to ask that question is that you were listening to our conversation with our guest last night. Our private discussion."
Finally glancing up to meet Abigail's eyes, Cara went on, "Normally I would not reward a breach of trust with an answer...but to try to keep you from foolishly asking someone else, I will say this."
"As we are to you, an original is to us. We are old, strong, fast and hungry. They are older, stronger, faster...and vastly, rapaciously hungry. We are dangerous, they are deadly. They know nothing of kindness...of decency by any human standard...and your first, best line of defense against them is that you are not anywhere near them, and that no one knows that you've ever heard of them."
"If either of those things is no longer true, then you are in danger that even Marko or I may not be able to save you from. Do you understand?"