Cohen seemed to consider her explanation, though he didn't look entirely convinced. "I feel like you could be right, since I've never had it, but I don't know what it would be made out of otherwise." He watched as she fished under the counter for something, presumably her wallet or purse or whatever magical container girls kept so many things in. Her voice was faint when she spoke again, though he still picked up on the words and smiled a little. "You're probably right there. Us land population tend to avoid things with 'nettle' in the description," he said as if it were the sagest of advice.
When she finally straightened and laid the twenty down, he immediately started fishing in his pockets for the change he carried for just such occasions. His efforts stopped abruptly, however, when she mentioned her name. Cohen looked up at her, eyes a little wide, as he tried to figure out if he'd heard right. "Parthenope. I feel like I've heard that name before," he murmured, not missing her use of the word 'we' but not able to focus on it as he remembered instead a somewhat shy smile as a beautiful girl told him that her sister Parthenope was the pretty one.
His dilemma now was figuring out a way to ask if she had a sister without sounding like a potential serial killer.
Clearing his throat a little, his hand went through his hair in that trademark nervous tic. "You, um," he started, stalling as he tried to regroup his thoughts. "You don't have a sister do you?" Well, if he was right, there went his chances of seeing her again. Nobody in their right mind would let someone who sounded like him near their sister.