Ellana's eyes widen and she nods enthusiastically. "It's beautiful," she breathes out. "Look how the fabric shines." She reaches out in order to feel how soft it is when a gasp comes from elsewhere in the shop and she sees one of the workers staring at her, a hand pressed dramatically to her chest. Her immediate thought is to tuck her hands behind her back like some naughty child, and she hates that that is how she reacts. It makes her wonder if that's how city elves react while living here. She's Dalish, and yet she doesn't know where her elven pride has scampered off to. This feels like some sort of test that she's going to fail either way, and a surge of something powerful rushes through her as she maintains eye contact with the woman and reaches out to slide her dirty little elf hand across the fabric.