Sawtooth Spire i'm bound by the feeling that's so easy to fake

her face went on a journey of expressions at each of his guesses, between giggle-snorts at him pulling funny faces and whatever this image is emotive of when he guessed seizure and began to imitate an apoplectic attack. "heck ids seed-sure?" she asked with an exaggerated roll of her eyes and a grin when he surmised it must mean stinky. "mmm you know whad sdinky ids already, silly!" she said, vaguely giving herself away. she straightened her shoulders up. "mmm ok, wadch me," she instructed, and when he had his full attention on her, she pulled the biggest smile her face could possibly bear up, her cheeks cramping and her eyes forcing shut. all those little baby shark teeth on full display, it was certainly frightening! 
she relaxed her mouth and moved her jaw so it felt less stiff. "well ifs you need anodder, ids on ma face every minude yow wid me! easy peasy now, ride?" she said, and pantomiming another charming smile with her brows raised demonstrably. 

after he'd presumably guessed correctly, they moved onto the matters of her garden and her disappointment in losing what, to her, had been the very essence of inviolability when it came to negativity and bad feelings. not having that safe space anymore made her feel vulnerable to not only the world but to the worst of her own emotions.  
stag offered to help build her a new garden, and she smiled wanly at his pledge of less snails. she fixed her stare to her pale toes. "idt wads spetchal garden," she revealed with torsion of homesickness in her gut. "how do we cadch da spetchal to pud there? where do find id?" she sighed, thinking of special as a very physical and tangible thing, rather than something wrought from the heart. 
her own childish thinking aside, there was something unimaginably special about that garden that couldn't be replicated, but only she would be able to figure out exactly what made it so when she was much older.