[ There's an extended pause as she grapples with his question. There are things she shouldn't say, and would never say to her fellow villagers. But it wouldn't matter so much to an outsider. And for some reason, even though she hasn't even seen what he looks like yet, she gets a distant feeling that she can trust him. Maybe that's just her yearning to talk to someone, maybe the only person she'll be able to confess to ever. ]
You can't tell anyone.
[ She prefaces with a childish demand. She hasn't even told him what it is he can't tell anyone yet... ]
And you have to promise... that you won't like my face.
[ One of her hands peeks out of the shawl toward him, pinky extended. She'll only accept the most sacred of promises from him, the pinky promise. ]
no subject
You can't tell anyone.
[ She prefaces with a childish demand. She hasn't even told him what it is he can't tell anyone yet... ]
And you have to promise... that you won't like my face.
[ One of her hands peeks out of the shawl toward him, pinky extended. She'll only accept the most sacred of promises from him, the pinky promise. ]