Clover watched, enraptured, as the other teen sketched on, his pencil making tiny scratching noises whenever it made contact with the paper. The lines had barely begun to take shape, but she was sure by the steady way he moved his hands that he was probably a gifted artist. “Remmington Pennyweather O’Neil,” she parroted back, testing the name on her tongue. It was quite the mouthful. “Is it alright if I call you Remi?” she asks as she grips his hand in her own, returning the handshake with vigor.

The young witch was taken aback by the compliment Remi paid her hair. Most of the kids back home in Maine tended to tease her about it, so she wasn’t sure exactly what to say whenever someone said something nice about it. The other youth went on to compliment her name, which she was much more prepared for. “Thanks! My mom was a bit of a hippy, or so I’m told. Her name was Anise, like star anise. Y’know, the spice? They use it a lot in Asian food,” Clover purses her lips to stop rambling on about spices.  [i]’He probably didn’t want a lesson on seasonings,’[/i] the girl mused.

Clover is silent for a moment, her grey eyes focused on the progress Remi has made on his sketch. It looks like a female’s face, though she can’t be certain from this angle. “So, you’re a vampire,” she states after finishing the rest of her apple. “I’ve never met one before. Well, that I know of,” Clover grins here, looking away from the sketch book and back up at the blue haired teen. “Do you have a daylight charm, or do you use sunscreen?” she asks curiously, before cringing and scratching the tip of her nose self-consciously. “Was that rude?” she asks sheepishly. “I just asked because I’d like to see your charm, if you have one.” Clover winces again. “That’s sounds even worse.”