[Nate's not quite sure he agrees with that—when he was ten, dessert wasn't a huge concern, because it wasn't a treat that was often available. Then again, maybe that's why he would have appreciated it more if he'd had the chance to go for it.

He chuckles and grins a little smugly at the acknowledgment of his super-cool wordplay and raises an eyebrow at the mini-biography. A ward? Like an orphan? Huh. Well, there's another thing they have in common.]

Yeah. I think I get that. I used to climb up and away when I wanted to avoid people too, when I was a kid. [When he didn't hit back.] Maybe you just had more challenging architecture, in which case shit, I may never catch up.

[He's not sure he wants to become some kind of flippy ninja scurrying up walls like Arno, but it sure was cool.

He follows Arno's gaze to the journal, having practically forgotten it was there, then bends to pick it up. Definitely he does not want to lose this. Two fairly accurately rendered drawings of Elena fill most of the space on the pages, along with the sketchy beginnings of a third. He's not focused or anything.]

Me? No. I'm not much for words, just a guy who likes to draw.