"Should be no problem to send this. Are you good for the fee if Grand Conjurer Therkal wishes for me to collect it?"
Perhaps his eyes are just tired, perhaps he's just grateful for the kindness the not-gnome is showing him, sharing a snack, but Gordon's eyes well up a bit. A tear is running down his nose, smearing sticky fingers on shabby clothes.
His eyes fall on a couple of humans about his size running about with a couple of sticks. They gabble in their heathen tongue, and some of the taller (adult?) humans chase them off. Maybe the small humans know how to use long sticks too?
Pembleton's eyes flick to her hand, and his brow furrows.
"Should it? Looks like eyes and mouths."
((Give me an Insight on him?))