[Time means that Koby's general resistance to being impolite has softened significantly -- he has more of a sense of humor, more flexible with what he finds funny. Hilda's mild, scowling annoyance is definitely funny, getting a flash of a grin, accompanied with the flash of the bright, mid-air fish.
Of course she's already named them. And invented (?) lives and relationships and backstories for them. Koby isn't sure what he'd expected. The name (Waffle) gets a soft huff, the ribbons an eyeroll.] Waffle is a fashionista like you, I see.
...really? [There's something soft, hopeful in Koby's voice as he says it, in his face as he glances over at Hilda. Something in him is still that boy, last-chosen, least-wanted. Something always will be.] You'd let me help?
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Of course she's already named them. And invented (?) lives and relationships and backstories for them. Koby isn't sure what he'd expected. The name (Waffle) gets a soft huff, the ribbons an eyeroll.] Waffle is a fashionista like you, I see.
...really? [There's something soft, hopeful in Koby's voice as he says it, in his face as he glances over at Hilda. Something in him is still that boy, last-chosen, least-wanted. Something always will be.] You'd let me help?