Nia Mitchell: ...!!!
Uncle Peary, don't be like that... You're changing way too fast...
Nia Mitchell hadn't expected Maxwell Peary to be serious. He wasn't joking; he actually walked right over, bent down, picked up a bag of potato chips, and opened it.
"Here you go."
Maxwell Peary offered the potato chips to Nia Mitchell. She absentmindedly took one and tossed it into her mouth.
"Is it good?"
Maxwell Peary leaned in to look at her, her small mouth munching away, even contentedly licking her fingers.
"Delicious! Uncle Peary, you should have some too."
Nia Mitchell reached out and held a chip to Maxwell Peary's lips, her face full of expectation.
Maxwell Peary's eyebrows knitted subtly. His nose caught the strange smell of the Junk Food. It felt as if with just a shallow breath, fragments of "that thing" could get into his mouth.
"It's really good, I'm not tricking you."
