The poor thing, he tittered to himself, wondering what brought her here so far out of the way of anything. Really, there was nothing here. Strel was not exactly the most gentle of people, but he was a far shot nicer than he thought he was. There was little reason for him to get angry, because the child could not answer him concisely, in the manner he wanted. Everyone was a shy, little kid once. But if she did not answer him, he could do next to nothing for her with no information. No one in their right mind would take her in instantly without something to go by. She might be young, but who knew? She could be a budding murderess.
"You're tired, but I do need to know just a bit more than that, sweetie." Strel gazed at her, lavenders eyes waiting for her to look up at him; he was trying hard to be close to eye level for her. "Do you need shelter? Are you running from something?"
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