Odessa though about the metaphor for a moment, before nodding enthusiastically and smiling brightly to the small girl. 'Yes, I suppose that's a brilliant way to put it. I've never considered it to be like that before...' she mused gently, fiddling with a small piece of uprooted weed in her finger tips. Though there was more that could be added to the theory. 'And just as some people prefer winter to summer and some need extra help during the colder times'. Like Imhotep. 'Like Immy...' Odessa sighed, love clearing her tone. 'He has very short fur and there fore needs a cloak when it gets too cold. But you and I have thick fur and can handle the chills'. Perhaps coming to Nova Scotia had been a bad idea, but Odessa didn't wish it any other way. Because he seemed to be handling it well, it was jsut that a pit fire was an ever present welcoming to there home.
'How have you been anyway?' she asked, remembering that she'd skipped questioning the young girls well being and dived straight into, and there fore been caught up in, conversations of the garden and what grew within it's boundaries. 'And do tell your mother, when you see her of course, that I send my thanks'. This was of course revolving around the glorious (and albeit quite intimidating) send off he'd received. But never the less the sombreness returned to Odessa's gentle tones.
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