"Toupe? What is that? Like brownish or something?" he asked, grinning as he turned his head to her. Livey was weeping still, leaning her head against his shoulder as they made their way through the forest.
"Want bear," she lamented between sniffles as she clutched Neville's neck. He patted her back as they walked, "No, no, I am utter rot at decorating. Didn't you come to my flat? It looked...terrible. You let your friends help, of course," he said cheerfully, glad that Livey seemed to be quieting down.