"Sounds like where I come from. Stone and wood, thatched roofs." Robin dropped a hand from it's place upon his bow to pull open a medium sized leather pouch upon his belt. He didn't move forward until a decent sized hunk of bread was removed. In England this would have been to give to the hungry, or to survive on if captured. Was this so far off from being captured?
"You are kind to share what you have, the least I can do is offer the same." The bow was shouldered again and he moved towards the girl and her large dog. Well, towards the girl, anyway. Robin was careful to give the beast a wide berth as he neared the fire. The bread crust cracked easily and the softer inside tore apart into two relatively equal portions. One was offered towards her.
"On a night like this I appreciate the shared warmth of your camp's fire, Lady Kestrel. Thank you."