Being unable to lie sounds like a lie that a liar might tell, and with no way to verify this statement and a long life of misdeeds behind you... well, who could blame you for taking that assertion with a grain of salt? "An y'all live in a great wood, y'said? An' fly? There a lotta you?" Your genuine curiosity is mixing with your desire to fuck with and irritate the bothersome flying woman; at this point your ability to effortlessly vex her is swift becoming a point of pride.
She seems exceedingly serious in this offer of a favor, and while you would love to maintain the ribbing, there's an opportunity to be grabbed. Straightening up and adopting your serious Zeph expression (not much different, to be frank), you fix her with sharp, almond-shaped eyes. "Aite. Tell ya what. How 'bout a trade?"
Zephyr
you can be the ripest, juciest peach in the world
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
