A smile pulled at her lips at his statement, and she gave into it, albeit a little sheepishly. She knew she was hardly looking her best, bedraggled from the rain as she was, the pins that held her hair back were losing their battle against her slickened locks and she could feel it coming loose. Her dress had almost entirely changed colour - the rain and capillary action from the grass turning the pale pink day dress a different shade altogether. But he had taken pity on her vanity and she appreciated the impulse.

'Oh a fair bit, but not as much as the stereotype would imply' she pulled the silk scarf from her neck, it was too sodden to serve it's original purpose of shielding her throat from the winds chill. She hung it over one of the tree's gnarled lower branches and leaned back against the trunk. 'But I do like it here when it rains, everything looks much more green and verdant, so Romantic.' she mused, taking in the countryside around her home, leaning back against the rough bark her expression soft and far away. Then catching her word usage added quickly, 'With a capital R - very Wordsworthian' Another self-conscious laugh escaped her.

The chill in the air made her laugh almost breathless, although the chill was more to do with the wet than the air temperature, which was unseasonably warm for the time of year. The oak tree's canopy allowed the occasional heavy drop to escape it's branches but for the most part it was doing a decent job of keeping the rain off of them. 'Are soaked through to your waistcoat and shirt?' she asked, unable to tell due to the dark colours, but assuming based on how heavily the rain had done it's work on her.

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