[ When the American South opened the door, she expected to step into her own home. In fact, it takes her a moment to realize that isn't where she is at all, wind blowing that long hair in her face while the other hand closes the door and habitually straightens a long skirt that really doesn't need straightening
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Though he does have a seemingly random white feather stuck in the back of his hair that he is, apparently, not aware of.]
Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes!
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I could say tha very same ta ya.
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Come on inside, make yourself comfy. I hope ya weren't in the middle-a anythin'.
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Or pecan pie, if memory serves.
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[ Never say no to food. ]
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Texas smiles, nodding in the direction of a hallway, presumably toward a kitchen.]
I could do with a bite myself. Shall we?
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Of course.
[ She's waiting for you to lead the way, Texas. And she doesn't quite recall where everything is anyway. ]
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How've ya been?
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I've been well. What of ya?
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[He may or not sounds a little wistful, and may or may not have someone specific in mind. He always does]
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Is there not as many people 'round as before?
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