"Bit of both," Myron admitted quietly, his accent making the words lift at the end. "But nah, no quidditch. Sorry. That what you do then?"
She certainly took after Kirley when it came to confidence, anyway. Although from the very little Myron remembered of her mother, she hadn't exactly been shy either. Myron had come to rather admire that trait in others. He was much more the reserved, quiet type - at least, when he didn't have a spotlight on him. He knew without Kirley's gift of the gab, he and his friends might not be where they were now.
Or where they had been, back home.
Merlin, this timeline thing was messed up. He frowned a little at Savannah's words, catching sight of one of his dark locks out of the corner of his eye. Before he could question the fate of his hair, however, she was sliding an arm through his and leading the way towards the stairs.
"I'm... getting there," he admitted. "It's a bit bloody barmy, isn't it? I can't believe you and Kirl - your Dad have stuck it out for so long already."