Flesh and Bone [Open]

"Oh...! Oh." Isla glanced away from him, her cheeks colouring ever so slightly at her faux pas. "I am very sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. For what it's worth, though, there is nothing wrong with being quiet. I find those who speak a lot often do not have anything good to say," she said, shrugging her shoulders and trying on a smile for him. Samuel Wordsworth, then - and a bookseller, too? Isla would keep that in mind, her eyes lighting up. "Do you know how to read any of the books in the Atheneum?" she asked him curiously. "I have tried exploring there once or twice, but a lot of the books are in another language. I can't make head nor tail of them." She shook her head. It was frustrating, especially for research purposes. And she knew she wasn't the only one to think so. His concern was appreciated, Isla nodding to him and dipping into a brief curtsey out of habit. "I will certainly watch out. And I imagine if you didn't even choose to become what you are, the idea of drinking blood must be... yeah. But, I must be stopping you from your task. Don't let me keep you, please." Isla the flesh is weak