Something akin to a chuckle rumbles out of Degas. "Well, we all have our strengths. Up to us how best to us them, although it is an interesting fact none the less."

He considers the young woman a moment longer, his expression hazy. Almost nostalgic. It had been far too long since he or anyone other villager trapped in Pumpkin Hollow had laid eyes on a new face. His own children would have peppered her with so many questions...

"Andy," he repeats, still pleasantly rumbling. He places a hand over his chest, a tip of his head in a nod. "Degas Clayton. And yes, I'd be worried if I couldn't pick you out of a crowd. After a few years everyone here is well known to each other. But don't let that deter you, I hear some of you new arrivals arrived under unfortunate circumstances, so let me please reassure you. Although we have little at the moment," He gestures to the turnip mush to emphasize his point, "We'll gladly help one another out. Is there anything I can do to ease your transition into life here?"