Stories of her breaking limbs and concussions passed off as accidents were probably better saved for another time, as amusing as Mabel recalled them. "I'll fix it," she volunteered to save the sweater, because her bloodstain removal charms were well practiced though certainly not household in nature. She might have baked and had to mend her own clothing countless times from rough treatment, but there was nothing household about Mabel and the thought of a future of domestication disturbed her. That had always been evident from the time they had played house as children and their cousin had ended up in the oven.
Once again she was hesitant to follow, but not too far behind, reaching out to gently grab the edge of his coat as they walked. "Unless you have something to say," she responded calmly, although she didn't mind if the conversation kept going anyway. Sometimes she suspected she liked the sound of his voice almost as much as he did. "You made yourself clear," she spoke with unwavering certainty, indicating she knew and most definitely wasn't going to listen to excuses or denial. Of course that didn't mean there weren't still plenty of unanswered questions related to the subject.