[She makes a face as though considering quite heavily whether or not that promise is feasible, but there's still a bit of a smirk on her lips.] Like pinky swear promise or...?

[Don't worry... Wait, she doesn't know his name. That needs to be amended, but first she's laughing at the thought of her being a Yankee, pleased that he wouldn't peg her as one at least. Not that there's too much wrong with being a Northerner. She's just full of Southern pride until people start trying to link that with bigotry and low intelligence.

Though, she's the first to admit that stereotypes start somewhere.]

Well thank you... Ah imagine you got a name. Ah'm Rogue.

[There's a moment where she steps forward to maybe shake his hand, but it turns into merely stepping closer. Perhaps she's feeling a little dangerous, but not death dangerous.]

The mountain ones are the best. Ain't clogged in sediment. Better visibility... [Don't mind her gaze momentarily wandering before she looks back at his face, cheeks tinging in embarrassment.]