Don’t worry ‘bout it, Crowley. [ Infused with all the confident sincerity she can muster, as if he actually gives a single fuck. She tilts her head to the side, looking a bit smug as a cherry on the top. ] The originality of my nicknames’ll improve the more I get to know you.

[ Aranea sits cross-legged in front of the campfire, taking in the warmth of the already flickering flames by flexing her hands open and closed. Though she doesn’t immediately react to his proposed moniker for her, she doesn’t mind it either way, as her silence of the matter appear to suggest. ]

Hm. I could have went with ‘pretty boy’ first. But with so many of you out here, I don't even know where to begin.