Oh, dear, is Johnny texting him, now? She should probably tell him not to bother, but it's strangely gratifying to watch him tap out angry little missives on her behalf, if not at her behest.
"I don't know," she says with a dismissive flap of her hand before pinching the bridge of her nose. The Balladeer has never struck her as cruel. Perhaps someone took his phone. Or she misremembered the number, and it was just some random person being unkind. Or maybe he does have a nasty streak she'd just never been privy to until now.
What an awful day this is turning out to be.
"Well," she says, attempting to lighten the mood a little, "I don't suppose you'd like a muffin." Goodness knows how long he's been out here, but she's guessing they've both missed breakfast, and it's getting on towards lunch.
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"I don't know," she says with a dismissive flap of her hand before pinching the bridge of her nose. The Balladeer has never struck her as cruel. Perhaps someone took his phone. Or she misremembered the number, and it was just some random person being unkind. Or maybe he does have a nasty streak she'd just never been privy to until now.
What an awful day this is turning out to be.
"Well," she says, attempting to lighten the mood a little, "I don't suppose you'd like a muffin." Goodness knows how long he's been out here, but she's guessing they've both missed breakfast, and it's getting on towards lunch.