When her eyes ran over him, Connor blushed harder if it was at all possible. Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and kicked at the ground a little. "Not so unlucky," he defended with a chuckle. "Wasn't so bad, really. Stress free, being six again. Nothing to worry about except what your next snack was going to be and whether or not there were monsters under the bed. Well, cot in our case, I guess."
Of course, since then, Connor had learned that there were monsters, though not necessarily under the bed. Monsters and demons and good witches and bad witches galore. But he wouldn't mention that there. Might look a bit like a whiner. "You don't really think it's an apocalypse here, do you? I mean, they'll go away eventually, won't they? The zombies? How many can there possibly be?"