The cook, for her part, a woman who is older but whose precise age is hard to pin down, as with so many elves, has warm brown hair, streaked with silver. Her expression is one of quiet delight.

"Agathe joined us from the house of a nobleman. I suspect she could make a feast from the very dust, had she need. We've been most fortunate." Herian's tone is even and quiet, and yet there is a subtle sort of softness in it. She is lightly nudged by Agathe, handed her own bowl of soup, and given a significant look along with her heel of bread.

She stands with her bread and her soup, but makes no move to dine immediately. Instead she looks to their guest, and bows her head respectfully. "I am Herian Amsel. A pleasure to break bread with you, ser."