Hushed Willows Digging for windows

Tambourine thankfully quieted himself, though only after the stranger explained that he was here to help her. Larkspur stiffened a little, not sure what to make of a perfect stranger—one that reminded her of Skellige, to boot—offering his help, especially without offering a name to go with it. Spur's lips parted but before she could say anything, Tambourine peered at her with genuine concern etched all over his youthful face, asking pointed questions that she wasn't entirely sure she felt like answering right now.

Despite his growth, Spur still remembered him as a loud, obnoxious baby. Perhaps if he had been someone else, a respectable adult, she would've answered him. Instead, her eyes narrowed a little as she said evenly, "I don't really want to talk about it." She then shifted her attention to the nameless black male. "I don't need anything," she added quietly, then remembered to add, "Thank you, though."

It was so tempting to withdraw back into The Crook, to hide behind Harlyn and Silas, but Spur suddenly remembered why she was out here in the first place. "All I want," she said suddenly, her voice still barely above a murmur, "is... company." She didn't sound too sure about that at all but the young woman knew she must try to get back into the swing of things in the Keep. "And maybe the latest news."