"I'm not specced for spacial awareness," Winter says back, half deadpan, half startled out of her, like she got the think and speak wires in her brain momentarily crossed. Then, with a more apologetic nod to Presley, "Sorry."

She arches a brow, a smile faintly sneaking across her features as she processes his reaction to the scarf neither one of them could possibly afford. "Not a fan of goat wool, Presley?"