[ If they had explored the asking route, Hilda would have happily tagged along to help soften Rahu's interrogative tone. She did it so often at home before this. In fact, she had taken more joy in the quiet wheelding of old grizzled noblemen than she ever thought she would. It would be a taste of home. Something that she didn't think she might have the opportunity to do ever again.

But that feels like a thought miles away from them now at this moment. Currently, she's waiting with curiously baited breath as she watches Rahu lean forward to pluck the meat off the skewer. Thankfully she still remembers that she has a voice and another mildly flustered laugh titters from her. ]

You're right. But just because that's my friend's philosophy, doesn't mean it's yours. I didn't want to assume anything. But that's good to know for the future.

[ A thought hops unbidden through her mind - not unlike a rabbit - how would those lips feel against hers or ghosting against her sun-warmed skin? And what would her fingers look like "dirtied" with something else? She's quick to clear her throat, not understanding where that came from. When there is only one last piece of meat left, too far down the skewer to risk accidentally stabbing Rahu, Hilda plucks it off, holding the rabbit meat out towards her. ]

What do you think?