Despite her exhaustion and the burn in her eyes, Shalan caught the puff of the small child's chest as she proudly declared her age. Seven. The elf tried not to smile. So young! Yet she is so wise, especially for the daughter of men. She must have been taught by someone wise.
Her smile fell a fraction when the girl invited her along, back to their home. Nothing but trouble had ever followed when she was invited into a house.
Always the lure of a soft bed, a fireplace, a warm meal. Even if there was a child involved in this home, in this bargain, Shalan feared what would be asked of her in return.

"I have no gold, child. Nothing to offer in return for any bed by any fire" The elf admitted, sitting still, her body language unchanging. "I have been traveling a long time, with few offers as tempting as yours. Now I am used to sleeping on the ground. When you're tired enough, anything is a bed." The woman's lips turned politely, deciding to take the topic away from the girl's offer. "What does your Pappa call you? Are you not afraid of elves?"