[ Her eyebrows go up, as he talks, tilting her smile down into her lips as she presses them against her fingers. It's good to see someone with the same sentiment. ]

I heard the sun in the south is something to be seen. [ From artists and poets at least. They trickle through these doors more than almost anyone else. Forever in love with someone woman they cannot have. ] I never thought to miss summer, but I miss feeling at least somewhat dry, having the warmth on my skin. [ Granted if she spent her time in more noble houses perhaps she would not feel that way. But here? In the muck and the dirt, it feels sunk into her skin -- and especially now. Seems fitting to so much misery, maybe.

Another mouthful, another grimace for it and her head tilts, tips. ] Listen to us, anyone would think we were homesick.