He was doing it again. Spilling out his thoughts that made no sense in Daphne's head no matter how much she mulled over them. Pursing her lips, she raised a pale brown in question. "Am I that frightening to you?" she pondered with a small chuckle.

That was a bit...unnerving. The last thing she wanted was for Plymouth to feel like he was stepping on eggshells around her. Perhaps this all had to do with what Celandine liked to call 'her stiffness.'