[prickly old bag of skin and sticks... isn't she?]

[He snorted, crouching down to the side, elbows at knees and... NOT blocking her light right now.]

Sweetheart, if there were rum here I'd be soaked in it, and magic? Stories told to children on cold nights in the desert slums. Try some water. It's better for hydration. [he picked the cup up and put it in her spiderish hand]

Cheers.