"Sure an' tha's nice of ye, miss...<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Ah dornt blam ye fur wantin' tae tak'm wit ye.</span>" Came the admission from Moira, the entire bit as nervous as a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.<br/><br/>Sharon grinned sheepishly and scracted at her cheek, "but th' thing is, see."<br/><br/>They both turned to directly face Viloet, their palms presented as though thieves trying to plead their case of innocence. Together, they complained "We cannae leave!"