The offer is far from unwelcome, prompting the slightest shift in his expression: momentarily smoothing out the harshness in sharper countenance and bearing. His lips curl, he waves off her offering in a way that’s only stern— not cruel, nor disparaging.

Her accent shift does not go unnoticed.

“We are Judge Magisters, even here.” he muses softly, perhaps with a bit of stolid humor tucked away in there. “We can do better than rations. Come.”