Grouse Thicket roll for initiative

“Slum…ming,” she repeated quietly, tasting the word on her lips, knowing her naivety was shining through quite clearly now—and yet not caring.

He studied her intricately—and she realized soon that this man missed nothing. She took a bite of the meal provided, hoping he did not think her ungrateful for the hunt—but no sooner did she swallow, did he bring up the potential she might wish to choose her… sullier… carefully. She could have choked—her question surprised. “Sully doesn’t have anything to do with love, in common tongue, does it?”

Had she been wrong in the definition in it?