"What I'm sayin' is," Lars implores, turning to face Alois, his elbows resting on the table behind him. Lars crosses his legs. "it was an accident, so don't get your fancy knickers in such a damn twist. Bet your punches feel like kitten kisses, anyway. How old are you, even? Six?"

It hardly surprises him that no one around her looks normal—and it does well to concern Lars. But as far as circus freaks go, it's true that Alois is a relief to his eyes. If becoming an increasingly irritating flounce. But a good first impression is rare with Lars, anyway—mutually speaking, worth noting, and most people were terrible besides.