Deepwood Weald i found out that my friends were more of the savory type

his head lifted and they made eye contact, and though he pushed a smile, she did not feel his glow. a little frown for herself, now, as he answered. it does not look like it. she mumbled the observation in a small voice under her breath. nevermind that, then. she would not push him to tell the truth if he did not want to; still she felt his glum- if nüwu could find a way to make the conversation comfortable for him, she would try. little did the thinker know that he did not want her presence at all- but a curious child, she was bound to remain. um, what is your name? she offered a shift in topic.