"Yseult," she says, smile friendly as she takes his hand. Her own is callused like a sailor's, just beginning to soften again. "You're Brother Jehan?"

She already knows the answer, not just because she was given a name and description of the man she was to meet but because she made a point in her first few weeks in the Inquisition to learn as many names and faces as possible. A habit best not advertised.

"It does look like it could use the help." She looks about for something likely, among the fallen branches or-- "Is there a shed, or anything? Leftover supplies?"