"You're not supposed to be here," she hisses, petulant while twisting away from him, almost afraid that he might actually pinch her. The conversation feels more like she's warning off a bully before all the children get called back to the house for dinner.

"And this is my spot," because why not list all of her grievances. It has a perfect view of a high window, where she can watch the clouds or the moon depending on the time of day without craning her neck too much. She balances on one foot, her other dipping into the water to kick again, this time to splash him in the face.