At the base of a mountain, someone puts a letter and a small paper wrapped parcel into a mailbox.
"I'm not sure you can get me the thing I want," she says, with slightly different emphasis from last time.
That's not an expression he knows how to respond to. An archdevil, sure. A dragon, easy. An all powerful sorcerer with a mountain rigged to explode, not a problem. A slightly cryptic assessing look? No bloody idea, what do.
... He smiles?
He ducks his head, embarrassed.
"I have not yet outgrown the dorky smile of some bumpkin kid from Hilltop." He smiles a little. "Maybe one day," he adds, in a tone that says 'But probably not.'
He considers. "Yeah, close enough. Thanks. Do you want me to leave you a way to contact me?"
"All right. Uh. Want any - I don't know, books, cards, puzzles, or - something?"
"Okay. Do you want me to come by again later for conversation? I uh. Can't imagine you have many people to talk to."