Gabrielle knew that children wasn't the best topic for either Arabella or herself. Her friend was one of the few to know that her one shot at motherhood, with an accidental teenage pregnancy back in the 17th century, had resulted in a miscarriage as well. She had had nightmares about it, doubled with her few encounters with children vampires, who proved to be some of the most dangerous of their kind and being more akin to demonic beings as humans like to portray the supernatural. She shuddered imperceptibly, somewhat annoyed and ironically amused that she could still have placebos to certain very human reactions after a few centuries as a vampire.

"Children reacting better to women. I guess that misogyny never dies," she added dryly. She cared not whether that hot investigator took it the wrong way. As much as she'd get him back to his shirtless state, it would take more than that for her mood to soar again. She'd stay on track though and get this creepy thing over and done with.

"I'll do it," she answered Bella's query. Slightly lifting her chin, she moved further into the room. She walked up to the doll, raising her hand, and her pale fingers briefly brushing against the uneven row of dolls. She hid her anxiety behind her stoic face and began quietly humming an old tune, words slowly escaping her lips.

"Il y a longtemps que je t’aime, jamais je ne t’oublierai..." She stopped at one of the dolls, one that looked older than the others. She carefully picked it up and holding it against her, she quietly walked around the room, finding a spot near a crib. With ethereal grace, she sat on the dusty floor, placing the doll by her side, as her eyes looked around, while she continued singing.

"Chante, rossignol, chante, toi qui as le cœur gai. Tu as le cœur à rire… Moi je l’ai à pleurer."