[Balthazar is a lover of all hues of hair, in both women and men. He can't relate.
When she arrives, he's about halfway through a beer and plucking small weeds with inordinate care, like he's afraid the entire garden ecosystem will be destroyed if he makes one wrong move. The plot in front of him seems to be doing all right, though, with several dozen little plants unfurling in the sun.
He glances up as she wanders over and gives a mild, welcoming smile, dusting his hands off on his jacket.] Well enough. It's rather Zen, I think, hanging around in the sun and playing with green things. You're Buffy, I assume?
action;
When she arrives, he's about halfway through a beer and plucking small weeds with inordinate care, like he's afraid the entire garden ecosystem will be destroyed if he makes one wrong move. The plot in front of him seems to be doing all right, though, with several dozen little plants unfurling in the sun.
He glances up as she wanders over and gives a mild, welcoming smile, dusting his hands off on his jacket.] Well enough. It's rather Zen, I think, hanging around in the sun and playing with green things. You're Buffy, I assume?