Ysaryn's eyes narrowed as Kire touched her, her answer oddly ... comforting. To not focus on the past and instead on her goal was what helped drive her. A better life. Freedom. 
That Kire was shit at fishing was somehow not surprising. Ysaryn could only picture her trying to stab fish with the sword she never let out of her sight. 

Considering the amount of people who complained about the stench of her tea, Ysaryn only boiled the water in the pot, fishing into her pockets for a small satchel. She sprinkled a bit of the sour-smelling herbs into a clean cup and waited. 
"You had ugly body when you came." Yaaryn said bluntly. "Ready to punch. Ready to bite. First goal in a tense meeting. Disarm the opponent." The elf grinned. "The compliment made you body relax. Yes, many men have your hair. But not many elf. Rare, for gold hair. Strange, as my hair is common."

She watched the kettle, enjoying the way the flames licked the sides of the metal, leaving whispers of char marks before they faded.
"You will not to help me find a home. You have much to do, Chieftess. It will be my job to find a home for my people." Her eyes went up to Kire's, her expression kind. "But you come visit. I will watch you stab fish."

Another one of her musical chuckles, then she frowned. "Tell me. I feel bad about Zeck. He is always ugly body. But in Cordon, almost, he was different. I fear now he is discouraged. I do not know why I care, but I do not know how to encourage, either."