Gwen tilts her head to the side and pulls a 'thinking' face, "Mmm. Still can't picture it. I'll believe it when I see it."

Joking is still easier than treading back into vulnerable territory, a breather in what feels like walking on a conversational tightrope.

She stands up from the door frame and reaches back to pull her hood out from under the sweater. She doesn't even put it on, it's just needlessly uncomfortable having it bunched up under there when she's wearing this get-up for longer than originally planned.

"I uh— did a lot of the cooking for myself when dad was working, so."