[It's okay, she's properly filthy to begin with. She's spent most of the day getting into all manner of places where she probably shouldn't be and her fine silk clothing, all in a burnished burnt orange, has certainly seen better days, even without any beet stains she may or may not have acquired in her ill-fated adventure.
Her grip is also firm, no-nonsense, and she has her fair share of callouses as well. She releases his hand after a moment and offers a little smile. She's pleased he got her name right. Call her sentimental, but there's so little here to remind her of home that even the smallest, simplest things are a wonder that she cherishes perhaps more than she ought.]
'Cutter'? What is it you cut?
[Nouns as names are not a concept she's familiar with. She'd almost peg his build as a blacksmith, but the name - title? - implies something else altogether. Butcher?]
no subject
Her grip is also firm, no-nonsense, and she has her fair share of callouses as well. She releases his hand after a moment and offers a little smile. She's pleased he got her name right. Call her sentimental, but there's so little here to remind her of home that even the smallest, simplest things are a wonder that she cherishes perhaps more than she ought.]
'Cutter'? What is it you cut?
[Nouns as names are not a concept she's familiar with. She'd almost peg his build as a blacksmith, but the name - title? - implies something else altogether. Butcher?]