[Freyja doesn't eat, although she does take a big swig from her own waterskin.]

Yeah, there are. Ilsabeth - she's a halfling - made the tack; said she learned it from her old militia sarge. ...that said, she couldn't make much more. Anything more complicated than porridge and she'd be as like to burn it.

[Another big sip.]

A story first. What was that about the man who wanted you dead over a song?