"Oh!" Greta shifts a little, not quite getting to her feet, but looking as if she's thinking about it. "No, it—I'm not—"
This is ridiculous. The truth is, she's sort of flattered that Anne stops by like this. She isn't quite sure what the appeal is, for Anne — if pressed, she'd hazard a guess about the comforting old-fashioned-ness of the cottage, or the draw of spending time with someone who knows what it's like to do without all of Darrow's technological trappings, or simply the quiet — but Greta's always pleased to see her. Considering that Anne drew swords on her the first time they met, it feels like a compliment to have her here, on purpose, just... because.
Regardless, framing it as an intrusion is a bit ridiculous. It's not as if the chickens will be offended if she has company.
"You're not intruding," Greta insists, forcing herself to settle a bit, her tone gentler and more measured. She considers Anne for a moment, then smiles faintly and cants her head towards the plants. "Have you ever weeded a garden before?"
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This is ridiculous. The truth is, she's sort of flattered that Anne stops by like this. She isn't quite sure what the appeal is, for Anne — if pressed, she'd hazard a guess about the comforting old-fashioned-ness of the cottage, or the draw of spending time with someone who knows what it's like to do without all of Darrow's technological trappings, or simply the quiet — but Greta's always pleased to see her. Considering that Anne drew swords on her the first time they met, it feels like a compliment to have her here, on purpose, just... because.
Regardless, framing it as an intrusion is a bit ridiculous. It's not as if the chickens will be offended if she has company.
"You're not intruding," Greta insists, forcing herself to settle a bit, her tone gentler and more measured. She considers Anne for a moment, then smiles faintly and cants her head towards the plants. "Have you ever weeded a garden before?"