Jill wasn't quite sure what she had said to make the girl so angry at first, but the cold fury suddenly emanating from the slight figure beside her made her recoil instinctively. She was too surprised to apologize at first, uncertain of what she ought to say and what she really had done. When the answer came, it wasn't really an answer, more of a hint of one. Clearly werewolves had been involved, whatever had happened. Chewing at her own lip, final piece of sweet bread forgotten in her hand, she struggled for something to say. Being of such a friendly disposition, she hated few things in the world, the few things she did dislike not at all measuring up the the icy fury in Seda's eyes. The result was not elegant. "Well, if you feel like that it's no wonder. I mean, I don't hate werewolves but if I did I guess I wouldn't want to hear about them either. Um..."
The silence was filled with a sigh from her companion and confused and awkward fretting from Jill herself. Finally the girl spoke again, apologizing, and more than happy to accept it, Jill nodded and smiled. "When I was younger...a child I mean, I used to dream about going to some far off country and finding the griffons. And then I'd bring them back to Ferelden, and the Grey Wardens would thank me." She looked down, not exactly feeling silly, but maybe a little stupid for harbouring such plans.
"How did your parents meet?" Jill asked, the hint of a good story rousing her curiosity. She had never asked her own parents for such a story, but right now it sounded like an interesting tale. People were interesting after all, there was usually something to tell about everyone. Looking down at her hand, she suddenly discovered that she was still holding the last piece of sweetbread. Stuffing it whole into her mouth she chewed contently before leaning back on the stairs. It was not awfully comfortable, but at least it felt relaxed to be reclining just so.
"He was. I don't know if we're defined by what we do...eh, I'm not a horse messenger, but horses are my...one interest really, so I guess it does define me somehow. But fighting is not like horses, it's just something you...do." Accentuating her statement with a gesture, Jill again searched for the words that was quite right. "I mean, a smith is more than his tools, so why wouldn't a mercenary be more than her sword?" Eyes darting back and forth, she thought back at what she had just said, before nodding to herself, satisfied that she had expressed her thoughts to the best of her ability.