Duck Lake dirty little secret

She's either very old or very young— this discrepancy unsettles him. He pulls himself up out of the water too, shakes the water off of himself before approaching her. A sort of intense friendliness surrounds him, with nothing behind the eyes. Well, he remarks, a hand on his chin, would you like one?
He sizes her up out the corner of his gaze. She's small and pale, and she dances over the uncanny valley like it's nothing. She could very well be a student or a grown woman and Taylor can't put his finger on what evades him, whether its those bright blue eyes or the clear skin. More and more, Taylor sighs, It's hard to come by a home. But I can give you one. He never finishes his sentences.
Another hand comes to wipe his wet brow. It lingers over the mole on his cheek, before returning to his lap. With interactions between strangers and Taylor, it was inevitable that they found something odd about him. He wonders how long it would take for the woman to see it and toss him by the wayside as something inherently malfunctioning.