Eagerly, and perhaps a bit greedily, Gin reached for a biscuit and spooned some jam on it. While Mrs Goose talked, he ate. It wasn't the most refined sort of eating as it had been quite awhile since he'd last had something fresh. Usually it was stale bread or some salted meat, especially this time of year, and that was nine times out of ten stolen before he retreated to his makeshift home in the trees of the woods.
Once he had eaten the biscuit, barely breathing between bites, he spooned a bit of sugar into the tea, stirred and then lifted the cup to take a sip to wash down the biscuit. Then he realized she was probably waiting for an answer from him.
Family. Did he have family in these parts? Perhaps the better question was did he have family?
No, not really, he supposed. Unless one counted the lady and her husband that had created him, but it wasn't like he stuck around long enough to consider them actual family. He could have lied and told her he did, but Gin knew that if he played the poor orphan that sometimes people took pity on him. They were always easiest to take advantage of then.
“No,” he said finally. “I don't have any family.” He left it at that. He wanted another biscuit, but he didn't want to look desperate and gluttonous. Even so, his eyes drifted down to the plate.