Before the girl had answered him she'd burst into a poem. It was one he didn't recognize and he was surprised when she did it. It really wasn't like anyone but him to randomly break into song or someting similar and her poetry was a very pleasant surprise. He leaned back with a smile, finishing the headband he'd been weaving while she spoke. It wasn't until she'd finished and he'd looked up again to see that a rather stoic looking young man had come to stand beside her.
He offered the guy no more than a glance before the pretty thing before him started talking about skirts. "A longer skirt...mm, let me see what I have." He laid the headband down on the table and stood to better shift through the various pieces he had spread before them. "It sounds like your mother was smart, a real fashion philosopher. Let's see, what do you think she would think about this one?" He finally found what he was looking for and pulled a long blue and black skirt from the bottom of the pile. "It's got right movement, what with the way the bottom is cut."
Pan held the skirt out for her to take and look at. "That poem you recited, did you write it?"