"They did exactly that," Isabella agrees. "We can go back to our room and clean up." She scoops up her treasure into her arms.
"Smush! That is what smushy peas do," agrees Isabella. "They smush."
Angela improvises along with her. "Smushy peas, smushy peas," she warbles, up and down a scale.
They reach their room.
"Damaris my treasure, do you think I wanted to have peas on my face?"
"That's right," says Isabella. "I did not." She maneuvers Damaris into one arm and opens the door to the family quarters they've moved into. "And now they are there anyway."
The cleanup of smushy peas could be accomplished more efficiently with magic, but Isabella doesn't want Damaris to grow up with no idea how to do things the ordinary way; it would make her peculiar to her peers. Soap and water are deployed.
"There. Now there aren't smushy peas on us any more," says Isabella. "That's better."
"He's not! He must be somewhere else. Let's go find him," says Isabella, picking up her treasure.
Isabella laughs and goes out into the Eyrie to search for Micaiah the long way around.