Willa: Well this was odd, she had never seen this camp before. The woman thought as she looked around for the owner. It was nice meeting new people, and allies were always good if bad things happened. She didn´t call out or anything remotely towards that gesture, but kept a safe distance as she walked around the camp site, no need to walk in and anger the owner, it was better to wait for their invitation if they even wanted to invite her in. ((I tried TTwTT ))
Woodie poked at the fire, trying to make it hotter, somehow. He still had some of that tin of coffee left over and, damn, did he need it now. He saw something moving out of the corner of his eye and turned defensively, but as his eyes fell on the whimsically dressed lady, his mouth fell open. Was she….real? Either way, she hadn’t seen him yet. Better not startle her. “Uh….hello over there!” He tilted his head and smiled a bit, “Welcome to camp Woodie!"
“Well thanks!” He beamed after reading the note. It was obvious that he was proud of figuring it out, but it wasn’t often people appreciated little things like that. Little things that made life just a tiny bit easier. ”But uh…I’m afraid I don’t have any cream or nothin’ for the coffee. I always drink it plain so I didn’t bother.” He frowned a bit at this little failure in being a good host.
The ballerina chuckled while shaking her head and waving a hand, like saying that it was quite alright. She normally enjoyed her coffee black too, cream and sugar was a luxury when she finally got her hands on it. Carefully she took a sip from the hot beverage and sighed out smiling fondly over being able to even have coffee again. She hand´t managed to find something like this herself so it was a true blessing to be able to finally have a cup like this again. Putting the cup down once more she began writing more on her piece of bark.
“Where are you from? I´ve never heard your accent before.” And she was curious about it. She knew when people were from America and England, Irish and Scottish sounded very alike in her ears, but again she had learn English through her career as a ballerina, and from schooling, so it wasn´t a wonder for her she had problems hearing where each dialect was from, or accent for that matter.
For someone who didn’t talk, Willa was certainly expressive enough so it was easy enough for Woodie to see her intentions with her actions. Seeing her small moment of reminiscing with the coffee ignited a small spark of pride in him; that he was able to share just a little bit of comfort with someone who seemed so different from himself. He sat on the ground near the small fire and enjoyed his own cup while she wrote another note. "Oh! Heh.“ He laughed after reading it, "Didn’t know I had one I guess… I’m from Ontario, up in Canada." Most of the people he had met here were from more Southern parts of the world, so saying "up” was a pretty safe bet. "How about yerself? Can’t say ye have an accent either, eh?“ He laughed.