"Nicer come autumn," Remy said with a tilt of his head and a smile, "Got t'at beddin' down f'winter scent to it. Don't get snow 'round here much, had it once or twice, if I recall, but never nothin' t'at lasts more'n an overnight. She'll be y'lady too, if you allow it. 'Course, I don't know if you swing t'at way," he teased, popping the rest of his bite of bread into his mouth, amused.