[There seemed to be a lot more to that story, but... Maybe she shouldn't ask. He didn't seem to be volunteering much in the way of detail... but at least he said she was... alright?

That's what mattered, and she doesn't want to dredge up bad memories, so...]

Ah, they took me in after my parents died... they lost their children in the war, and... they raised me since then.

[As she talks she keeps her hands busy setting up the tarp, trying to prevent herself from getting emotional. From remembering that she feared she'd never see them again.]

They're farmers! I help with the harvests and the planting but my parents are still healthy so they handle the day to day while I'm at work...

[If he doesn't stop her though, she slips into rambling, unsure of what to say or what order to say it in.]

My father is a good craftsman, too- he made my harness, and he made a table for me at home so I could eat with them... and my mother's cooking is so good, and-