She can't help but frown speculatively as Steven explains the tattooing traditions from where — or when, she's going to have to sit him down at some point and get a proper explanation from him about this, instead of just taking his word for it as she did before — he is from. It sounds to her like those sorts of markings lose their meaning if you can have literally anything you like carved into your skin, especially a representation of a pet, but what does she know? She had been so proud the day she got her warrior's ink, but maybe she would have been equally proud had she chosen to get a line of a ballad etched into her arm instead.

She takes a drink of her tankard, shifting to brush her hair off her shoulders so that it won't get in her way as she sets to eating the food placed in front of her.

"Fourteen," she replies. "I did not see real fighting until two years after that, however."