Behind her, the titter of small porcelain feet could be heard approaching. Her smile widened so slightly as she set her needle and thread aside, preparing to be bombarded by her companion. Angie Beneviento had skittered into the room, clambering onto Donna's lap with a laugh too deep to be a child, but too bubbly to be am adult.

"Any particular reason you've wandered in here?" The doll-maker questioned. The doll squirmed before seating herself.