"Nothing wrong with being quiet," Sookie replies in turn, the volume of her own voice subconsciously lowering, as though to prove her point. There's something so matter-of-fact about the way that Sam interacts that Sookie finds it comforting, almost reminiscent of the way that Arlene's children are almost by necessity, unable to do anything but in their wake of their mother's tendency to blow problems out of proportion. They ground her, Sookie remembers, and although she suspects that Sam's reasons for being quiet may not be quite so nice, it's never something she'd hold against or try to change in the girl.

"I used to be real quiet myself, back in the day. Jason, my older brother, he was the louder one of the both of us. Always real popular at school, 'cause he got along with just about everyone. But I liked to think that being quiet meant I really knew who my best friends were. They were the ones who'd understand me without my having to say a word." She rolls her eyes, playfully. "Although I guess I talk a whole lot, now. If it ever gets annoying for either of you, feel free to have me zip my lips up for a bit."