Moonspear [m] the suspension of disbelief

She was not prepared for the vehemence of his response. It wasn’t just the quiet emphasis of his words, it was the intent way he looked at her as he came closer. Treepie stiffened instinctively, then coaxed herself to relax. It helped that he posed a question that struck her as kind of odd in an endearing way.

That sounds very transactional, she pointed out lightly. Nonetheless, she pondered his proposition before adding, I guess I don’t mind riffing on Twenty Questions.

Would he start or did he want her to pose the first question? Tiuttuk tried to think of what to ask. There were so many things she didn’t know about him, though in truth, something about his present vibe invited her to cut to the chase. She shouldn’t bother with fluff or platitudes but ask what was really on her mind.

Noticing a bit of crust in the corner of one golden eye, she abruptly observed, You have a sleepy winker. Did I wake you? Then, realizing what she’d done, she puffed, That wasn’t intended to be one of my twenty. Sorry. Who’s starting?