Her young hostess slipped out of the room, and Elsa stood for a moment, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. Just a few hours ago she had been trying to sneak into the village to find a place to sleep, and now she had in quick succession been in a skirmish, ordered to stay, guarded like a stray animal and then Roran had brought her to her home. Fingering the deep green fabric of the robe she wore, Elsa suddenly picked up voices nearby, a man's voice making her calm shatter and her heartbeat pick up. Was the Dark Man back? Maybe templars as Roran had mentioned? Were they here to get her? And then a door shut and there was silence and all Elsa could hear was her own furiously beating heart. Holding onto and leaning on the wooden tub beside her, Elsa felt faint but quickly straightened when Roran came back into the room. She might feeling somewhat closer to the young woman now than before, but she was not about to appear weak and confused.
Smiling politely she accepted the comb, though she was not able to contain her surprise at it's missing teeth and shabby appearance - Roran was a girl, although she dressed strangely. Holding it gingerly she moved her hair over her left shoulder, running her fingers through it a few times to try to separate the worst knots. Elsa didn't really see the logic of her explanation, if she herself had had any money the first thing she would buy was a comb and then never let it out of her sight. Looking down to hide her confusion, she was deep in thought by the time Roran spoke again.
If Roran guessed that Elsa was the most comfortable speaking of herself, she was grossly mistaken. Far from seeming to enjoy herself, Elsa paled slightly, eyes big and then carefully wiped the surprised expression from her face, placing in it's stead a pleasant and polite mask. Blinking a few times she tried to compose an answer without anything to go on. She recalled all the fairy tales she had told farmer's wifes and fisher's daughters, and wondered which one to tell if Roran asked similar questions.
Sighing softly she lifted the comb and began running it through her dark locks. "Aye, I think so. I have not spoken much to him, we might be from different parts of the country," she offered vaguely, hoping that it would be enough to deter Roran. Elsa doubted it - the young women she had met so far had longed for exotic stories from far far away. And she was not unable to provide them, it just hurt her that she had to invent everything she spoke of.