He seemed annoyed or exasperated already, at her interrupting of his trudging – but, perversely, that hardly deterred her from wanting to prod at him. He couldn’t help her – she didn’t need help – but she felt it a challenge of sorts, and didn’t mind if she irritated him about it. He was an enigma, and she had always been too curious for her own good.
“Matilda Farris,” she introduced herself, hopping smoothly off the fence to meet him face on, so that it would be even ruder if he walked away from her now. “I hear you’re a rather difficult man to pin down,” she commented airily, not explaining herself any further. If he wasn’t stupid, he would connect the dots from Farris to the magizoologist researcher. (Her father had made it his business to interview most of the dragonkeepers about the dragons and their work on the reserve, and Mattie had personally organised enough of his notes and heard enough of his complaints firsthand to know much of the gossip, and had gleaned that Mr. Orpington was not a man of many words.)
“Matilda Farris,” she introduced herself, hopping smoothly off the fence to meet him face on, so that it would be even ruder if he walked away from her now. “I hear you’re a rather difficult man to pin down,” she commented airily, not explaining herself any further. If he wasn’t stupid, he would connect the dots from Farris to the magizoologist researcher. (Her father had made it his business to interview most of the dragonkeepers about the dragons and their work on the reserve, and Mattie had personally organised enough of his notes and heard enough of his complaints firsthand to know much of the gossip, and had gleaned that Mr. Orpington was not a man of many words.)
