“I heard you,” Trystan relented, to appease her (– as if she were a spitting wildcat –), although he didn’t know exactly what he had done this time to set her off. (It had been a marginally more productive encounter than rescuing her from the freezing pond, he supposed, so this may be as close to a pleasant encounter as he could expect from her – at least, it had been pleasant while it lasted).
He put his hands up as if surrendering at wandpoint, and took a step back, giving her the space she so clearly desired. “Have fun at Mrs. Cranston’s,” he offered casually to both mother and daughter; and before she could bluster and bristle at his impertinence again, Trystan shot her a last small smile and took his leave, brushing off a little dirt from just above his knees.
He put his hands up as if surrendering at wandpoint, and took a step back, giving her the space she so clearly desired. “Have fun at Mrs. Cranston’s,” he offered casually to both mother and daughter; and before she could bluster and bristle at his impertinence again, Trystan shot her a last small smile and took his leave, brushing off a little dirt from just above his knees.
