"It does at that," she said, leaning back to stretch out her back. Her legs especially would ache later, but she'd come back tomorrow to work them back up again. "It'll just take some work." She didn't seem afraid from hard work, though. She'd worked all her life. "Not quite twenty years doing it will leave the mental mark, though." Made her feel old to put it that way, but she'd started in her teens.
Her eyes had flitted over his back again, curious but unwilling--yet--to pry. He had a reserve around him that tempered a portion though far from all of her curiosity. "That would be great, actually. I had hoped for a bag, at least. I didn't think there'd be anyone here willing to go at it with pads though."
Carmel blinked at the thanks, not sure what it was for until he went on to explain. Though she didn't know him well at all, even she could see it took some effort to do so. "There's no need for thanks," she told him quietly. "In most things, it's not my place to judge people, especially here, unless someone hurts someone else here. We've all done bad things." She lifted one shoulder, smiling gently. "But you're welcome, and you are welcome here, and to come to dinner, and all."