Since the announcement of her candidacy, Oz had been mostly ignoring Miss Whitledge's existence, except to share in a chuckle when anyone else made a joke at her expense (which, her being a twenty-one-year-old woman, was rather frequently). They were still in the phase of the election where new candidates arose from the ether by the week, and Ozy was waiting for time to pass and a few of them to establish themselves as clear forerunners before he incorporated any of them into his campaign strategy as competitors. He rather doubted that Miss Whitledge would qualify. Not that he had anything against her personally, per ce... he didn't think he'd ever actually had a conversation with her, but had determined based on the one piece of evidence he had (her candidacy) that she was almost certainly a naive fool.

She addressed him and he turned to look at her, apparently taking notice of her for the first time (though in reality he hadn't missed her pouting a moment ago, from the corner of his eye — cute, he supposed, and who could really blame her for being moody? She was essentially still a teenage girl). He looked her over for a long moment, his expression withering.

"I reject your premise," he replied. If he considered her any serious threat to his campaign, or if he wanted to win her vote, he might have given her a lengthier answer. Since neither was the case, he left it at that and turned his attention back to the gentleman she'd interrupted, hoping she would take the hint and disappear.

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