Connor gave a slow grunt—displeased almost—but he dipped his head nonetheless.
“I am surprise you still seek me.”
"Did he teach her to trek through unknown territory as a detour." He loomed over her.
"Did your father teach you to be a stronzo?" she huffed, rolling her eyes. Viola held out a covered basket, full of freshly baked breads, with some fruit, the blanket on top also woven from thick yarn. "This is for you, idiota."