Before she can take it too far from him, he catches her hand in his, grateful for the contact; the reminder that he's so much more fortunate here than he ever was back in Anmaral. That there are people here that are willing to see the intent behind his actions rather than simply the end result as they would define him.

He holds her hand in his, the contrast between her carefully manicured digits and his dirty, calloused, thrice healed over hands is stark. He looks at the differences as if ruminating over something.

"I'll rest when I'm satisfied that the work I'm doing is enough. Another day or two at most..."

Then his gaze meets hers.

"When I'm rested, will you teach me?"