She bites her lip, then steps cautiously off the road onto the soft ground beside it. "Thank you, sir." she says softly, perching primly on the log next to him.

She gladly accepts the stew. It isn't Freema food, but it'll do. Freema would be busy in the kitchen right now, with her army of helpers, making everything for the guests and the courtesans. She eats delicately, like she thinks she shouldn't eat it, but is hungry and has never gone hungry before.

"Did you make this?" She asks, curious.