She wrinkles up her nose in laughter, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face away from all the puppy kisses, but doesn't stand up. The slobber is gross, but it reminds her with a pang of her family's herding dogs back home. Eventually, though she does stand up; with nothing else to use, she just wipes her face off with her sleeve. Inessa won't judge her--she's a dog person, right?

"Fern Doirnáin," she introduces herself, smiling a little, but doesn't lose the curiosity in her eyes. "You were in the Circle?" She looks almost sympathetic, like being trapped in the Circle is the most terrible of fates.