Her tone lost all boyish affectation: "You're not a--" horse.

Buffy took the time to try and properly understand the man. He was claiming the name as his own? But it was an English name, given by a Caribbean Pirate Lord to a Water Tribe warrior.

And then the voice hit her. Like an anvil to the face. Or, perhaps, a boomerang. But Buffy knew better than to trust hopes and dreams and wishes. Instead of answering him, she circled nearer. She tried to close the gap she herself had initiated.

Then, given the chance, she'd try and catch him by his hood.