His name. He was giving her his name. Now that was certainly odd. Or was it normal? Did one in polite society give their name immediately when an errant ball of wool came out of nowhere?

Quickly the faun bent on her angled legs and snatched up the rainbow skein. She gave it a quick glare before stuffing it away into the small bag at her side. One knitting needle she slid into her bonnet on her head, pinning it to her bob of hair beneath, and then she stood up again, tall and awkward, giving him a wry smile.

"Hi uh ... Evian," she scurried to wind up the last bits of wool. "Hi. Sorry again."

Were you supposed to give your name back? Well yes, but Celandine was sure her governess Gosling had also focused on the idea of someone, a third party, introducing two people to one another. Not just throwing names around. She had a loss for the expectations here and was rather confused if only for the questions coming to her that didn't quite make sense and weren't exactly coherent.

"Celandine," she answered without anymore hesitation. "I'm um ... A knitter," she grabbed for her scarf as if that answered the secrets of the universe.