Well, that certainly has Gwendolyn Maxine Stacey's attention. She sits up more, putting an elbow on the tables surface and resting her chin in her hand, her other arm resting flat on the table-top, fingers drumming a rhythm. A decided pattern, not that tip-tap-tap other people do. She's used to beats and rhythms, the follow-able flow of sounds. She did mention working a gig, once, so music is a thing with her.

"You...sound a lot like some of the adults back home when they want me to be sneaky in regards to my brothers. I have three. Younger. Absolute brats." Said lovingly and fondly and a bit sadly. She misses those assholes. "I'm pretty good at keeping things to myself."

That'd be a yes.

"What do you need me to do?"