[ Smile pulling wider, Vincent shakes his head; a gesture that he needn’t feel the need to apologize. After all, it was his own choice to purse that path— though not his own to continue living. Stupid Hatter. ]
How young?
[ Brows raising, he’ll hum. Thats not something he’s specifically been asked before. ]
Around… eight, perhaps? [ Index brushing across his lips thoughtfully, perhaps it’s the alcohol, or simply being asked the right questions, but he doesn’t see much reason not to be honest here. What difference would it make? ] Who’s to say, really. [ And he isn’t simply poor at maths. ]
no subject
How young?
[ Brows raising, he’ll hum. Thats not something he’s specifically been asked before. ]
Around… eight, perhaps? [ Index brushing across his lips thoughtfully, perhaps it’s the alcohol, or simply being asked the right questions, but he doesn’t see much reason not to be honest here. What difference would it make? ] Who’s to say, really. [ And he isn’t simply poor at maths. ]