"Aye, and they would be." She's tired, a little, and shifts on the bale before deciding on practicality instead. Mayhap the Mouse won't be offended, she hopes, as she slides to the floor instead, leans her arm on the hay-bale, and leans her head on her arm so she can keep talking with him. Golden hair cascades over her shoulder as she looks up.

"They're well-trained so. Part of their lessoning, ye ken, where mine were more in stories."