It seemed to be the right thing to say, despite Elsa's own deep conviction that it was true. She just wished she knew what to believe herself, when her own mind was empty. Straightening, she started to dry herself with the towel, patting herself down roughly to keep the lovely warmth that had settled deeply in her bones. Not bothered with propriety, she let go of the towel and lifted the green robe. The material was soft and worn, as if it had been used regularly, but the fact that Roran's mother was not here to use it herself hinted at her demise. Shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of it's constant machinations, Elsa shrugged the robe on and knotted the belt around her thin waist. She guessed she would have felt like a shadow of herself, if she had known how her former self had looked. Right now she only knew that the belt accentuated a waist slimmed by starvation which was usually huddled in layers of underskirts and shawl.
Turning to Roran, she smiled easily, the warmth reaching her eyes this time. It was hard not to start growing fond of the young girl, there was a certain vivaciousness about her that was heart-warming. "Prego, cara mia", she responded, ignoring that other part of her mind that sorted away the event as another little debt Roran earned her. Maybe some other day, but not this night when she was warm and clean. Right now she only wanted to pretend that the world was a nice place and that she had a good place in it.
Lifting the towel again she dried her hair off, grimacing as the heavy wet locks tangled hopelessly in one another. It frustrated her to have to ask for such mundane things, but there was no helping it. Her satchel did not contain a comb, only a dagger, and she did not feel like cutting her hair off. "Roran, do you have a comb I can borrow?" she asked, trying in vain to keep her frustration out of her voice.