Nevaeh ni Dog, this boy's utter lack of the grace of a transition was little bit astounding. Adah blinked a few times as her mind struggled to keep up with a comparison to the vast expanse of flat ceiling to the vast expanse of a flat chest like she used to have at fourteen, or like River's actually, to the presumption that she was mute (which she was certainly going to continue to propegate) to the possible suggest that her being mute had an effect on whether or not his dog would fall through the ceiling.

She blinked a few times, gave her head a very deliberate shake, like an Etch-a-Sketch, disrupting the jerking, criss-crossing paths of magnetized sand so that they fell away, trying to make a clean slate, but she could never shake it hard enough, residual ghost lines of the amature geometry remaining, clinging to the screen.

And then she blinked again at the boy, forehead wrinkling with the clear indication that he'd either better start making sense soon, or she was just going to start running with the babbling, and she didn't think that he'd really terribly want her to do that, else he have quite the interesting picture of himself cemented into her head.