[Please give her that jacket, don't step on the stuff by her feet--]

It's your birthday, moron. I got you presents. I should just keep them from you for soaking me though.

[She'd feel so righteous about it. Her annoyance is a small steam-riser, but she sighs and shakes her head, picking up her basket. It's got a woolly... thing covering whatever's inside from view.]

Just warm me up and I'll forgive you, okay? I shouldn't have expected anything different from someone who wasn't effected by those distrust potions I experimented with...