She takes a moment - and they're a beautiful if odd, collection. Her sisters would have loved them, dug around for the prettiest thing out of the box. But Gilia takes a moment, looking over them before she lifts her hand to take the one that she spies.

It is the sturdy wood. Plain, simple. With as little pattern as she could manage. Gently, she takes it, sets it in her hands to turn it over, and raises her eyes to his. There is another bow of her head, thankful this time.

"I have nothing for which to repay you with."