"Hello," she said cheerfully. Her speech was surprisingly developed for such a young child. "Are you Poppy's friend?"
She pulled out the chair, sat in it, and tore a piece of clay for herself confidently. "What are you doing for the assignment?"
"A hand? Like this?" she asked, looking at her own hand, still pudgy with baby fat. She wiggles her fingers at him, much like Poppy had done earlier that day.
"I'm six," she responded cheerfully. "I have four brothers and sisters. My older brother is named George Ellery Abernathy. He's ten. Do you want to meet him?"
"Hmph. I'm pretty sure he doesn't like 300 year olds either, so it's not a big deal." She finished with her clay, having made some sort of dog, and wiped her hands on her dress.
She fixed him down with a stare. "Could have fooled me." Poppy returned in that moment with her bag, and she paused when she saw her sister. "Oh, Em," she said, sighing. "You've made a bit of a mess." The girl looked up at her guiltily, and Poppy kissed the top of her head before nudging her out the door. "I'll take care of it. Go wash your hands and then play with George, okay?" After she departed, Poppy took her place at the table. "Sorry about that."
"Did you really just get your feelings hurt from a six year old?" Poppy asked amusedly, sweeping the dry clay into her hands.
"Chances are, you were mean first," she replied, smirking slightly at him. "Em isn't exactly malicious."
"All I said was that I didn't like ten year olds. That's not that mean." He frowned. "Lets just work."
Poppy rolled her eyes, but took a roll of wire and begin to unspool it. "We should give them some support," she explained, snipping a strip with some wire cutters.
