"Scoots here because she likes to bug me to carve little figures of you, and the rest of her friends follow. If you're this worried about her, clearly she's got a good role model. She's fine, now. Don't tear yourself up about it. I dunno... take her for ice cream or something. Kid adores the shit out of you." I say softly, patting her back. I move to let her go, but she's gripping my shirt, crying softly. Cold, cocky, confident exterior-- big softy on the inside.