She blushes a little at that, her shoulders hunching. In her experience, when men call you something like firecracker, there's a judgement behind it - and, in fairness to him, she can't say it's not warranted. She's on a shorter fuse than is appropriate, lately.

"Thankee," she says again, and looks away, pursing her lips. She won't take him up on it, she's sure. A favour is way too broad, and the last thing she needs, just now, is to owe someone something. Still, she's not quite cynical enough to blind her to the fact that he's trying to be nice. "And I'll check by the dock, anyroad. If there's folken there givin' out work."

So long as they'll take a woman for the kind of work he's doing, and not just the other kind that goes on in docks all over the world. But that's not his lookout.

"I don't remember where I saw 'ee," she says, after a moment, looking back up at him. "In the castle, sure, but not if it was above or below. Not that it matters, I guess, but..."

But it does. Not a lot, maybe, but it feels important to know.