Haunted Wood there is a light

The explanation of his home genuinely drew in the peachy lass. Her ears tilting to be closer towards him, face falling, attentive rather than performative.

She had moved around so often after she'd left her birth home. A hint of envy stung her chest. To stay in one place—beautiful and protective and something, somewhere to belong to—was nothing more than a dream for her. But it was Sol's reality, and that was something she could long for, but never understand.

It sounds very beautiful, she hummed, nodding. Yer a lucky man, ya know. The warmth, the pride in his expression was enough to see that it really was quite the place. She searched those ocean eyes carefully, looking from one to the other. Then, she'd sigh with a somewhat self-deprecating smile.

He was happy with her nickname for him, and she'd nod. Sol, then, internally, and somewhat reflected by her voice, her mood had been slightly dampened with longing, but she was quick to right herself. She'd observe him once more before she spoke: You're a handsome man. Call me Peach, if ya like.

Georgia's voice was mischievous, though her comment on his appearance was truthful. She wasn't typically one to flirt, but she wasn't at all censored when it came to her opinions. The peach was quite visibly checking him out.