...oh. [A simple, perhaps a bit childish response, but Fern is no artist--or at least, not of this variety. She looks up at the fresco displayed before her, feeling inexplicably small beside it, beside all of the history that it references that she knows nothing about. They don't teach little elf farmers about the nuances of history out in the rural outskirts of Ansburg.]

I don't know much about Kirkwall history, [comes her nervous admission a few seconds later, along with a sideways glance at the peculiar elf.] Or... any history, really. ]There's a little furl in her brow, her lips pinching together thinly, as though anticipating judgment.]

I haven't seen you here before.