[Rosette lifts her head, honestly unable to tell the foreign thought from her own. She spots the stranger, and waves him over, her expression openly warm and friendly. Right here, right now, there are no strangers to Rosette. Just people she hasn't met.]
I hope you're good at picking out rocks. Skipping stones are the work of a master.
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I hope you're good at picking out rocks. Skipping stones are the work of a master.