But what was even cuter was his name. Did he say it was Sparrow? The funny, little man down in the subway tunnels was an... uccellino. How bizarre, how fitting. She decided she liked it – his name. And, because she decided she liked it, she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to humor him just a while longer. He did, after all, regained her favor slightly with that introduction. He also stepped back. Ignoring his proposition for friendship, Arden began to test out the feel of his name on her tongue. “Sparrow,” she repeated slowly after him, tapping her chin lightly, “Spaaa-rrow. Spear-row. Spee-row?” Spee-row. She liked that one.
“I am Arden,” she announced with a playful, little curtsy. It was the polite thing to do since he had made the first move – and she knew etiquette if nothing else. “But I do not know if I want to be your friend, Spah-row.” Tucking her hands behind her back, she tilted her head to the side as she looked him up and down. “We are not familiar.” She also didn’t have friends. Never did. The closest thing she had to a friend was Vasco. Otherwise, she had bodyguards, she had underlings, and she had associates. It could be fun though. To have a friend. Yet she still didn’t think she wanted to be friends with him.