Elann had no idea what was going on in his mind and so handing the picture back was a way to find out not only what she wanted to know, but also so he could safekeep it. In the end, as he spoke about how he wanted her to keep it, she still let him take it.

"Oh, well keep it safe for me then."

It wasn't as though she had a frame or a book the size of his sketch pad that was able to keep it safe. Her version of preserving it would have been to either lay it on the floor so it didn't get wrinkled - but would likely get stepped on eventually - or would be folding it in half and stuffing it into her journal. 

While she could tell it took him some guts to come to her to bring her the drawing he did, it was just another example of his communication breakdown. She didn't despise the art, and actually peaked in a small way of enjoyment upon first seeing it, but she began to think about how he could have asked about Yahal's eyes, his nose, his mouth, his muscles, what type of cloak it was instead of assuming. She realized she was being overly critical, but by that time he had already slipped into bed. 

Once he was laid down to sleep, she would slip silently out the back and down into the grass to begin to pick more flowers and to distract herself. She couldn't even admire the nature around her anymore as his words stung her still, that he didn't like when she spoke of things she knew nothing about. There was a bite of pain on her lip to keep her from feeling too strongly about the fight and she sought distraction elsewhere with her eyes, deciding to run ahead of the wagons a bit. 

She would continue on her feet for some time until midday and then would come back and nap in the bed with the flaps closed.