Lá Bealtaine [open thread, come one come all]

[mnemosyne]

Éva absorbs that moment of surprise, that tick of shifting expectations with a perfectly level equanimity. Some strangers have assumed that Ellie was adopted, except - they look so very much alike, except for their coloring. Perhaps she has seen it so often that it no longer registers, precisely.

Then she listens to his testimony regarding cowboy boots with equal seriousness. Or rather, equal Seriousness, her dark head tipped forward, some keen thread of living amusement gleaming in her eyes, just detectable in the curve of her mouth. "Thank you, I will take all that under advisement, Mr. White." Her gaze slants downward to Ellie, watching all this, judging the Real Cowboy's ™ performance, assessing its impact on her mother's expression, all quite seriously beneath her flower-crown.

A pleasure, says Calden.

"Likewise," returns Éva, when the handshakes are finished. "and you've already met my daughter Ellie."

A beat. "Though perhaps not formally, I think." The faintest widening of her wry half-smile. "Ellie, say hello to Mr. White."

And so Ellie formally introduces herself to Mr. White, the Real Cowboy ™, once again offering a small hand, this time for him to shake. After some prompting from her mother, the girl also thanks Mr. White for his able assistance and is then questioned by her mother about the origins of her flower crown.

Where did you find those? Some girl brought them.
That was very nice of her. Yes.
Did you thank her? Uh - no?
Do you think you should? Uh - yes?

Ellie then sets off on an unexpected quest, to find and thank Étain for the gift of flower-crowns. Éva traces her daughter's snaking path through the crowd of revelers with little more than the shift of her dark eyes, then returns her attention to the adults.

"Was that your first time acting as expert witness for the prosecution, Calden?"