"And you just get more and more intriguing, though I would not be so rude as to call you old. Besides, you are in luck, my father liked to regale me with tales of his voyages, along with all of his crew, I think," and she leans back with a critical eye, tilting her head this way and that, working to keep the smile from her, "yes, I think you might be close in age to him. The wind and the sea ages the face faster, though I am sure he would claim that daughters do a better job of that."

Actually that is her mother's line, for all that her mother lacks even one grey hair on her head to hold over Araceli, though bless her for each attempt that always ends with both of them laughing.

Settling back to make herself comfortable, she's pulled in by his words - she loves stories, and better yet she loves them when they're told well, by someone that knows what they're doing. "A stone can do that?"